LIBRARY 

UNtVLP 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO      j 


presented  to  the 
UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SAN  DIEGO 

by 

MRS.  FRANK  DRUMMOND 


no* 
Robert  Clarke  &  Co. 


mrcnxa  HIE  ROSE*. 


THE 


WARS  OF  THE  ROSES; 

OR, 

Stories  of  tlje  Struggle  of  f)ork  cmb 
£ancaster. 

BY  J.  G.  EDGAB, 

AUTHOR  OF  "  HI8TOET  FOB  BOYS,"   "  THE  BOTHOOB  OP  GKEJLT  MEN," 
''THE  FOOTPRINTS  OF  FAMOUS  MEN,"  ETC. 


JHlusiratfons. 


NEW    YOKE: 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN     SQUAB  E. 


TO 
MASTER  DAVID  M'DOWALL  HANNAY, 

®l)is  jBook  for  Sotjs 

IS,  WITH  EARNEST  PEAYEES  FOB  HIS  WELFARE,  INSCRIBED 
BY    HIS    GODFATHER, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


PREFACE, 


MY  object  in  writing  this  book  for  boys  is  to 
furnish  them  with  a  narrative  of  the  struggle 
between  York  and  Lancaster — a  struggle  which 
extended  over  thirty  years,  deluged  England 
with  blood,  cost  a  hundred  thousand  lives, 
emasculated  the  old  nobility,  and  utterly  de- 
stroyed the  house  of  Plantagenet. 

It  is  generally  admitted  that  no  period  in 
England's  history  is  richer  in  romantic  incident 
than  the  three  decades  occupied  by  the  "Wars 
of  the  Roses ;  but  the  contest  is  frequently  de- 
scribed as  having  been  without  interest  in  a  po- 
litical point  of  view.  This  idea  seems  errone- 
ous. That  struggle  of  thirty  years  was  no  mere 
strife  of  chiefs,  ambitious  of  supremacy  and  un- 
scrupulous as  to  means.  Indeed,  the  circum- 
stances of  the  country  were  such  that  no  hand 
would  have  been  lifted  against  sovereigns — 
whether  reigning  by  Parliamentary  or  hered- 
itary right — who  showed  a  due  respect  to  an- 
cient rights  and  liberties.  But  the  tyranny  ex- 


ercised,  first  by  the  hiinisters  of  the  sixth  Hen- 
ry, and  afterward  by  those  of  the  fourth  Ed- 
ward— one  influenced  by  Margaret  of  Anjou, 
the  other  by  the  Duchess  of  Bedford,  both  "for- 
eign women" — was  such  as  could  not  be  borne 
by  Englishmen  without  a  struggle;  and  evi- 
dence exists  that  Richard  Neville,  in  arming 
the  people  against  these  kings,  did  so  to  pre- 
vent the  establishment  of  that  despotism  which 
John  Hampden  and  Oliver  Cromwell  afterward 
fought  to  destroy. 

With  such  impressions  as  to  the  origin  of  the 
war  which,  during  the  fifteenth  century,  agita- 
ted England  and  perplexed  Continental  rulers, 
I  have,  in  the  following  pages,  traced  the  course 
of  events  from  the  plucking  of  the  roses  in  the 
Temple  Gardens  to  the  destruction  of  Richard 
the  Third,  and  the  coronation  of  Henry  Tudor, 
on  Bosworth  Field.  And  I  venture  to  hope 
that  a  book  written  to  attract  English  boys  of 
this  generation  to  a  remarkable  epoch  in  the 
medieval  history  of  their  country  will  be  re- 
ceived with  favor,  and  read  with  interest,  by 
those  for  whose  perusal  it  is  more  particularly 
intended. 

J.  G.  E. 


THE  PLANTAGEXETS.  xi 

and  freedom  to  the  people,  formed  hostile  races 
into  one  great  nation,  and  rendered  his  memory 
immortal  by  the  laws  which  he  instituted.* 

For  the  country  which  the  first  Edward  ren- 
dered prosperous  and  free,  the  third  Edward 
and  his  heroic  son  won  glory  in  those  wars 
which  made  Englishmen,  for  a  time,  masters 
of  France.  Unhappily,  the  Black  Prince  died 
before  his  father ;  and  his  only  son,  who  suc- 
ceeded when  a  boy  as  Eichard  the  Second,  de- 
parted from  right  principles  of  government. 
This  excited  serious  discontent,  and  led  the 
English  people  to  that  violation  of  "  the  lineal 
succession  of  their  monarchs"  which  caused  the 
Wars  of  the  Eoses. 

Besides  the  Black  Prince,  the  conqueror  of 
Cressy  had  by  his  queen,  Philippa — the  patron- 
ess of  Froissart — several  sons,  among  whom 
were  Lionel,  Duke  of  Clarence ;  John  of  Gaunt, 
Duke  of  Lancaster ;  and  Edmund  of  Langley, 

*  "Edward  the  First  hatli  justly  been  styled  the  English 
Justinian.  For,  in  his  time,  the  law  did  receive  so  sudden 
a  perfection,  that  Sir  Matthew  Hale  does  not  scruple  to  af- 
firm that  more  was  done  in  the  first  thirteen  years  of  his 
reign  to  settle  and  establish  the  distributive  justice  of  the 
kingdom  than  in  all  the  ages  since  that  time  put  together. 
.  .  .  It  was  from  this  period  that  the  liberty  of  England 
began  to  rear  its  head." — Blnckstone's  Commentaries. 


xii  INTRODUCTION. 

Duke  of  York.*  Lionel  died  early  ;  but  John 
of  Gaunt  survived  his  father  and  eldest  broth- 
er, and  was  suspected  of  having  an  eye  to  the 
crown  which  Ids  young  nephew  wore.  No 
usurpation,  however,  was  attempted.  But  when 
John  was  in  the  grave,  his  son,  Henry  of  Bol- 
ingbroke,  returning  from  an  irksome  exile,  de- 
posed Eichard,  and  sent  him  prisoner  to  Pon- 

*  '•  Lionel  of  Clarence  married  Elizabeth,  daughter  of 
William  dc  Burgh,  Earl  of  Ulster,  and  had  a  daughter, 
Philippa,  wife  of  Edmund  Mortimer,  Earl  of  March.  John 
of  Gaunt  was  thrice  married.  His  first  wife  was  Blanche, 
heiress  of  Lancaster,  by  whoui  he  had  a  son,  Henry  the 
Fourth,  and  two  daughters — Philippa,  married  to  the  King 
of  Portugal,  and  Elizabeth,  to  John  Holland,  Duke  of  Ex- 
eter. His  second  wife  was  Constance,  eldest  daughter  of 
Peter  the  Cruel,  King  of  Castile,  by  whom  he  had  a  daugh- 
ter, Katherine,  married  to  Henry  the  Third,  King  of  Cas- 
tile. His  third  wife  was  Katherine  Swynford,  by  whom  he 
had  two  sons — Henry  Beaufort,  Cardinal  of  St.  Euscbius  and 
Bishop  of  Winchester,  and  John  Beaufort,  Earl  of  Somer- 
set, ancestor  of  the  dukes  who  fought  in  the  Wars  of  the 
Roses,  and  of  Margaret  Beaufort,  Countess  of  Richmond, 
mother  of  Henry  the  Seventh.  But  both  the  sons  of  Kath- 
erine Swynford  were  born  before  wedlock.  Edmund  of 
Langley  espoused  Isabel,  second  daughter  of  Peter  the  Cru- 
el, and  had  two  sons — Edward,  Duke  of  York,  who  fell  at 
Agincourt,  and  Richard,  Earl  of  Cambridge,  who  married 
Anne  Mortimer,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  March,  and  left  a 
son.  Richard,  Duke  of  York.'1 — Sec  Sandford's  Genealogical 
History. 


THE  PLANTAGENETS.  xiii 

tefract  Castle,  where  he  is  understood  to  have 
been  murdered. 

On  the  death  of  Kichard,  who  was  childless, 
Henry  the  Fourth,  as  son  of  John  of  Gaunt, 
would  have  had  hereditary  right  on  his  side, 
but  that  Lionel  of  Clarence  had  left  a  daugh- 
ter, Philippa,  wife  of  Mortimer,  Earl  of  March, 
and  ancestress  of  three  successive  earls.  Of 
these,  Edmund,  the  last  earl,  was  a  boy  when 
Henry  of  Bolingbroke  usurped  the  throne ;  and 
his  sister,  Anne  Mortimer,  was  wife  of  Richard 
Plantagenet,  Earl  of  Cambridge,  second  son  of 
Edmund  of  Langley,  Duke  of  York.  "  This 
was  that  princely  branch,"  says  Sandford,  "by 
the  ingrafting  of  which  into  the  stock  of  York, 
that  tree  brought  forth  not  only  White  Roses, 
but  crowns  and  sceptres  also." 

Henry  the  Fourth  regarded  young  March 
with  jealousy,  and  had  him  vigilantly  guarded. 
But  Henry  the  Fifth  completely  won  the  earl's 
loyalty,  and  made  him  a  most  zealous  adher- 
ent. March  showed  no  ambition  to  reign  ; 
and  the  nation,  intoxicated  with  Agincourt 
and  glory  and  conquest,  cared  not  an  iota  for 
his  claims.  At  the  time  when  the  hero-king 
expired  at  Vincennes  and  the  Earl  of  March 
died  in  England  the  dynastic  dispute  was 


xiv  INTRODUCTION. 

scarcely  remembered,  and  it  would  never,  in 
all  probability,  have  been  revived  had  the 
Lancastrian  government  not  become  such  as 
could  not  be  submitted  to  without  degradation. 
It  was  when  law  and  decency  were  defied,  and 
when  Englishmen  were  in  danger  of  being  en- 
slaved by  a  "  foreign  woman,"  that  they  re- 
membered the  true  heir  of  the  Plantagenets 
and  took  up  arms  to  vindicate  his  claims. 


CONTENTS. 


CHATTER  PAGE 

I.    THE  MONK-MONABCH   AND   HIS   MlSLEADEKS IT 

II.    TlIE  DUKE  OP   YOEK   AND   THE  KING-MAKER 27 

III.  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  KENT 35 

IV.  THE  RIVAL  DUKES 46 

V.  THE  KING'S  MALADY 53 

VI.  THE  BATTLE  OF  ST.  ALHANS CO 

VII.  THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  YORKIST  CHIEFS 6T 

VTIL  THE  CITY  AND  THE  COUKT 76 

IX.  A  YORKIST  VICTORY  AND  A  LANCASTRIAN  REVENGE 80 

X.  THE  BATTLE  OF  NORTHAMPTON 88 

XI.  YOKK'S  CLAIM  TO  THE  CROWN 94 

XIL  THE  QUEEN'S  FLIGHT  AND  RETURN 99 

XIII.  THE  ANJOUITE'S  VENGEANCE 105 

XIV.  A  PLANTAGENET  AND  THE  Troous 118 

XV.  BEFORE  TOWTON 125 

XVI.  TOWTON  FIELD 131 

XVII.  THE  QUEEN  IN  ADVERSITY 145 

XVIII.  THE  WOODVTLLES 160 

XIX.  THE  LANCASTRIANS  IN  EXILE 174 

XX  WARWICK  AND  THE  WOODVILLES 190 

XXI.  DESPOTISM,  DISCONTENT,  AND  DISORDER 203 

XXIL  THE  SIEGE  OF  EXETER 218 

XXIIL  Louis  THE  CEAFTY 224 

XXTV.   "•  THE  STOUT  EARL"  IN  EXILE 232 

XXV.  THE  EARL'S  RETURN  AND  EDWARD'S  FLIGHT 244 

XXVL  THE  EAEL  OF  WORCESTER . .  253 


xvi  CONTEfl 

FA  OH 

XXVII.  THE  BANISHED  KING 202 

XXVIII.  QUEEN  MARGARET'S  VOYAGE '-Til 

XXIX.  THK  BATTI.'  i>-' 

XXX,  HJCFORK  TE\VKI::-:H-:'Y -".''.' 

XXXI.  Tiir.  FIF.I.T)  or  TJ  312 

XXXII.  THE  VII.TOK  AND  Tiir.  V.\N'.irisiiKi> 

XXXIII.  WARWICK'S  VICK-ADMIRAL.  . .' 337 

XXXIV.  ESCAPE  OF  THE  Truoss 347 

XXXV.  Ai>VKNTi:r.r.s  OF  JOHN  DE  VERB 353 

XXXVI.  A  DUKE  IN  HAGS 362 

XXXVII.  Louis  DE  BRUGES  AT  WINDSOS 368 

XXXVIII.  THE  TREATY  OF  PICQUIGSY 372 

XXXIX.  A  DOMESTIC  TRAGEDY 

XL.  KING  EDWARD'S  DEATH 390 

XLI.  THE  DUKE  OF  GI.OUCESTEF. 396 

XLJI.  TIJE  PROTECTOR  AND  THE  PP.OTECTORATE 390 

XI.HI.  THE  USURPATION 415 

XLIV.  RICHARD'S  CORONATION 420 

XLV.  THE  PRINCES  IN  THE  TOWER 423 

XLVI.  A  MOCK  KING-MAKER 427 

XLVII.  THE  COMING  MAN 432 

XLVTII.  FROM  BHITTANY  TO  Roswoirrn 439 

XLIX.  RiciiAr.i>  UEFOP.E  BOSWOETII 444 

L.  BOSWOSTH  FIELD 451 

LI.  AFTEK  BOSWORTH 465 

LH.  TUB  UNION  OF  THE  Two  ROSES 469 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    MONK-MONARCH  AND    HIS    MISLEADERS. 

Ox  St.  Nicholas's  Day.  in  the  year  1421,  there 
was  joy  in  the  castle  of  Windsor  and  rejoicing  in 
the  city  of  London.  On  that  day  Katherine  de 
Valois,  youthful  spouse  of  the  fifth  Henry,  became 
mother  of  a  prince  destined  to  wear  the  crown  of 
the  Plantagenets ;  and  courtiers  vied  with  citizens 
in  expressing  gratification  that  n  son  had  been  born 
to  the  conqueror  of  Agincourt — an  heir  to  the  king- 
doms of  England  and  France. 

Henry  of  Windsor,  whose  birth  was  hailed  with 
a  degree  of  enthusiasm  which  no  similar  event  had 
excited  in  England,  was  doomed  to  misfortune  from 
his  cradle.  He  was  not  quite  nine  months  old  when 
Henry  the  Fifth  departed  this  life  at  Vincennes ; 
and  he  was  still  an  infant  when  Katherine  de  Valcis 
forgot  her  hero-husband  and  all  dignity  for  the  sake 
of  a  Welsh  soldier  with  a  handsome  person  and  an 
imaginary  pedigree.  The  young  king,  however,  was 
the  beloved  of  a  thousand  hearts.  As  son  of  a  hero 
B 


IS  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

who  had  won  imperishable  glory  for  England,  the 
heir  of  Lancaster  was  regarded  by  Englishmen  with 
sincere  affection  ;  the  legitimacy  of  his  title  even  was 
unquestioned ;  and  the  genius  of  his  uncles,  John, 
Duke  of  Bedford,  and  Humphrey,  Duke  of  Glouces- 
ter, under  whose  auspices  the  royal  boy  was  crowned 
in  London  and  Paris,  created  a  feeling  of  security 
seldom  felt  by  kingdoms  at  the  beginning  of  long 
minorities. 

For  a  time  the  aspect  of  affairs  was  cheering. 
At  a  critical  period,  however,  Bedford  expired  at 
Rouen ;  and  ere  long  England  was  distracted  by  a 
feud  between  Gloucester  and  that  spurious  son  of 
John  of  Gaunt,  known  in  history  as  Cardinal  Beau- 
fort, and  as  chief  of  a  house  which  then  enjoyed 
the  dukedom  of  Somerset.  Gloucester  charged  the 
cardinal  with  contempt  for  the  laws  of  the  realm  ; 
and  the  cardinal  avenged  himself  by  accusing  Glou- 
cester's duchess  of  endeavoring  to  destroy  the  king 
by  witchcraft,  and  bani.-hing  her  to  the  Isle  of  Man. 
It  soon  appeared  that  the  rivalry  between  Duke 
Humphrey  and  his  illegitimate  kinsman  would  in- 
volve the  sovereign  and  people  of  England  in  seri- 
ous disasters. 

Nature  had  not  gifted  Henry  of  Windsor  with 
the  capacity  which  would  have  enabled  a  sovereign 
to  reconcile  such  foes.  Never  had  the  Confessor's 
crown  been  placed  on  so  weak  a  head.  Never  had 


GLOUCESTER  AND  BEAUFORT.        19 

the  Conqueror's  sceptre  been  grasped  by  so  feeble  a 
hand.  The  son  of  the  fifth  Henry  was  more  of  a 
monk  than  a  monarch,  and  in  every  respect  better 
qualified  for  the  cloister  than  for  courts  and  camps. 
In  one  respect,  however,  the  king's  taste  was  not 
monastic.  Notwithstanding  his  monkish  tendencies 
he  did  not  relish  the  idea  of  celibacy ;  and  the  rival 
chiefs,  perceiving  his  anxiety  to  marry,  cast  their 
eyes  over  Europe  to  discover  a  princess  worthy  of 
enacting  the  part  of  Queen  of  England. 

Gloucester  was  the  first  to  take  the  business  in 
hand.  Guided  at  once  by  motives  of  policy  and 
patriotism,  he  proposed  to  unite  his  nephew  to  a 
daughter  of  the  Count  of  Armagnac  ;  and  he  trust- 
ed, by  an  alliance,  to  allure  that  powerful  French 
noble  to  the  English  interest.  The  king  did  not 
object  to  the  Armagnac  match.  Before  striking  a 
bargain,  however,  he  felt  a  natural  desire  to  know 
something  of  the  appearance  of  his  future  spouse  ; 
and  with  this  view  he  employed  a  painter  to  furnish 
portraits  of  the  count's  three  daughters.  Before 
the  portraits  could  be  executed  circumstances  put 
an  end  to  the  negotiations.  In  fact,  the  dauphin, 
as  the  English  still  called  the  seventh  Charles  of 
of  France,  having  no  reason  to  regard  the  proposed 
marriage  with  favor,  placed  himself  at  the  head  of 
an  army,  seized  upon  the  count  and  his  daughters, 
and  carried  them  off  as  prisoners  of  state. 


20  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Meanwhile,  Beaufort  was  not  idle.  Eager  to 
mortify  Gloucester  and  increase  his  own  influence, 
the  aged  cardinal  was  bent  on  uniting  the  king  to 
Margaret  of  Anjou,  daughter  of  Rene  of  Provence, 
and  niece  of  the  French  monarch.  Rene,  indeed, 
though  titular  sovereign  of  Jerusalem  and  the  two 
Sicil  ies,  waspoor,  and  Margaret,  albeit  the  Carlo- 
vingian  blood  flowed  in  her  vein?,  was  portionlc.-.-. 
But,  though  not  favored  by  fortune,  the  Provencal 
princess  was  richly  endowed  by  nature  ;  and,  young 
as  she  was,  the  unrivaled  beauty  and  intellect  of 
King  Rene's  daughter  had  made  her  name  familiar 
in  France  and  famous  ii,  England. 

Never  was  intriguer  more  successful  than  Beau- 
fort. While  Gloucester  was  negotiating  with  the 
Count  of  Armagnac,  the  cardinal,  aware  of  Mar- 
garet's charms,  contrived  to  have  a  likeness  of  the 
princess  transmitted  to  the  court  of  England ;  and 
the  young  king  became  so  enamored  of  the  fail- 
being  whom  the  portrait  represented  that  his  wish 
to  espouse  her  could  not  decently  be  combated. 
Matrimonial  negotiations  were  therefore  resolved 
on  ;  and  William  de  la  Pole,  Duke  of  Suffolk,  was 
sent  as  embassador  to  bring  home  the  prim 
Rene  drove  a  hard  bargain.  Before  consenting  to 
the  marriage  he  insisted  on  the  restoration  of  Mainl- 
and Anjou,  which  were  among  the  Continental  con- 
quests that  the  English  were  in  no  humor  to  sur- 


MARGARET  OF  ANJOU.  21 

render.  But  Suffolk,  who  was  thinking  more  of  his 
own  interests  than  of  his  country's  honor,  yielded 
without  scruple ;  and  the  marriage  of  King  Rene's 
daughter  was  made  the  basis  of  a  treaty  which  could 
not  fail  to  prove  unpopular.  At  first,  however,  no 
complaint  was  uttered.  Suffolk  brought  the  royal 
bride  to  England,  and  declared,  in  allusion  to  her 
poverty,  that  her  beauty  and  intellect  were  worth 
more  than  all  the  gold  in  the  world. 

One  day  in  April,  1445,  the  marriage  of  Henry 
of  Windsor  and  Margaret  of  Anjou  was  solemnized 
at  the  Abbey  of  Tichfield — the  bridegroom  being  in 
his  twenty-fourth,  the  bride  in  her  sixteenth  year. 
The  religious  ceremony  having  been  performed,  the 
wedded  pair  were  conducted  to  the  capital  of  their 
dominions,  and  the  English,  being  then  devotedly 
loyal,  were  prepared  to  welcome  the  spouse  of 
young  Henry  to  London  with  an  enthusiasm  which 
could  hardly  fail  to  intoxicate  so  young  a  princess. 
The  nobles,  displaying  all  the  pride  and  pomp  of 
feudalism,  wore  the  queen's  badge  in  honor  of  her 
arrival.  At  Greenwich,  Gloucester,  as  first  prince 
of  the  blood,  though  known  to  have  been  averse  to 
the  match,  paid  his  respects,  attended  by  five  hund- 
red men,  dressed  in  her  livery.  At  Blackheath  ap- 
peared the  mayor,  aldermen,  and  sheriffs  of  Lon- 
don, arrayed  in  scarlet  robes,  and  mounted  on  horse- 
back, to  escort  her  through  Southwark  into  the  city. 


22  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

ing  under  triumphal  arches  to  Westminster,  she 
was  crowned  in  the  Abbey ;  and  that  ceremony  was 
the  occasion  of  general  rejoicing.  The  shows,  the 
pageants,  the  tournaments,  the  display  of  feudal  ban- 
ners by  the  nobles,  and  loud  applause  of  the  popu- 
lace might  well  have  led  the  royal  pair  to  prognos- 
ticate a  life  of  peace  and  happiness.  Nobody,  who 
witnessed  the  universal  joy,  could  have  supposed 
that  England  was  on  the  eve  of  the  bloodiest  dynas- 
tic struggle  recorded  in  her  history. 

In  fact,  the  people  of  England,  knowing  nothing 
of  the  restitution  of  Maine  and  Anjou,  were  at  first 
delighted  with  their  queen,  and  enraptured  with 
her  beauty.  Her  appearance  was  such  as  could 
hardly  fail  to  please  the  eye  and  touch  the  heart. 
Imagine  a  princess  in  her  teens,  singularly  accom- 
plished, with  a  fair  complexion,  soft,  delicate  fea- 
tures, bright,  expressive  eyes,  and  golden  hair  flow- 
ing over  ivory  shoulders ;  place  a  crown  upon  her 
head,  which  seemed  to  have  been  formed  to  wear 
such  a  symbol  of  power ;  array  her  graceful  figure 
in  robes  of  state,  and  a  mantle  of  purple  fastened 
with  gold  and  gems  ;  and  you  will  have  before 
your  mind's  eye  the  bride  of  Henry  of  Windsor,  as 
on  the  day  of  her  coronation  she  appeared  among 
peers  and  prelates  and  high-born  dames  in  the  Ab- 
bey of  Westminster. 

Unfortunately  for  Margaret  of  Anjou,  her  pru- 


DEATH  OF  DUKE  HUMPHREY.  23 

dence  and  intelligence  were  not  equal  to  her  wit 
and  beauty.  Ere  two  years  passed  the  popularity 
she  enjoyed  vanished  into  empty  air ;  but  she  was 
a  woman  of  defiant  courage,  and  far  from  taking 
any  pains  to  regain  the  affections  of  the  people,  she 
openly  manifested  her  dislike  of  Gloucester,  who 
was  their  favorite  and  their  idol.  Indeed,  the  young 
queen  never  could  forgive  the  duke's  opposition  to 
her  marriage ;  and  she  listened  readily  to  the  coun- 
sels of  Beaufort  and  Suffolk,  who,  in  the  spring  of 
1447,  resolved,  at  all  hazards,  to  accomplish  his 
ruin. 

"With  this  view,  a  parliament  was  summoned  to 
meet  at  Bury  St.  Edmunds ;  and  Gloucester,  sus- 
pecting no  snare,  rode  thither,  with  a  small  retinue, 
from  the  castle  of  Devizes.  At  first,  nothing  oc- 
curred to  raise  his  apprehension  ;  but,  in  a  few  days, 
to  his  surprise,  he  found  himself  arrested  by  the 
Constable  of  England,  on  the  charge  of  conspiracy 
to  murder  the  king  and  seize  the  crown. 

Gloucester  was  never  brought  to  trial ;  and  it 
was  said  that  Suffolk  and  the  cardinal,  finding  that 
every  body  ridiculed  the  charge  of  conspiracy, 
caused  "The  Good  Duke"  to  be  assassinated.  Ap- 
pearances rather  strengthened  the  popular  suspicion. 
One  evening,  about  the  close  of  February,  Glou- 
cester was  in  perfect  health :  next  morning  he  was 
found  dead  in  bed.  The  indecent  haste  with  which 


:>4  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Suffolk  seized  upon  the  duke's  estates  was  com- 
mented on  with  severity;  and  Margaret  of  Anjou 
shared  the  suspicion  that  had  been  excited. 

The  cardinal  did  not  long  survive  the  man  who 
was  believed  to  have  been  his  victim.  Early  in  the 
month  of  April,  Beaufort  died  in  despair,  bitterly 
reproaching  his  riches,  that  they  could  not  prolong 
his  life ;  and  Suffolk,  now  without  a  rival,  so  con- 
ducted himself  as  to  incur  the  perfect  hatred  of  the 
nation.  The  English  people  had  a  peculiar  aver- 
sion to  favorites,  and  remembered  that,  while  weak 
sovereigns,  like  the  third  Henry  and  the  second 
Edward,  had  been  ruined  by  such  creatures,  great 
kings,  like  the  first  and  third  Edward,  had  done  ex- 
cellently well  without  them.  Suffolk  was  every  day 
more  and  more  disliked;  and  in  1449  his  unpopu- 
larity reached  the  highest  point. 

The  position  of  Suffolk  now  became  perilous. 
Impatient  at  their  Continental  reverses,  and  exas- 
perated at  the  loss  of  Rouen,  the  people  exhibited  a 
degree  of  indignation  that  was  overwhelming,  and 
the  duke,  after  being  attacked  in  both  houses  of 
Parliament,  found  himself  committed  to  the  Tower. 
When  brought  to  the  bar  of  the  Lords,  Suffolk, 
aware  of  his  favor  at  court,  threw  himself  on  the 
mercy  of  the  king  ;  and,  every  thing  having  been  ar- 
ranged, the  lord  chancellor,  in  Henry's  name,  sen- 
tenced him  to  five  years'  banishment.  The  peers 


FATE  OF  A  FAVORITE.  25 

protested  against  this  proceeding  as  unconstitution- 
al ;  and  the  populace  were  so  furious  at  the  idea 
of  the  traitor  escaping,  that,  on  the  day  of  his  lib- 
eration, they  assembled  in  St.  Giles's  Fields  to  the 
number  of  two  thousand,  with  the  intention  of 
bringing  him  to  justice.  But  Suffolk  evaded  their 
vigilance,  and,  at  Ipswich,  embarked  for  the  Conti- 
nent. 

On  the  2d  of  May,  1450,  however,  as  the  ban- 
ished duke  was  sailing  between  Dover  and  Calais, 
he  was  stopped  by  an  English  man-of-war,  described 
as  the  Nicholas  of  the  Tower,  and  ordered  to  come 
immediately  on  board.  As  soon  as  Suffolk  set  foot 
on  deck,  the  master  of  the  Nicholas  exclaimed, 
'-  Welcome,  traitor  ;"  and,  for  two  days,  kept  his 
captive  in  suspense.  On  the  third  day,  however, 
the  duke  was  handed  into  a  cock-boat,  in  which 
appeared  an  executioner,  an  axe,  and  a  block ;  and 
the  death's-man,  having  without  delay  cut  off  the 
head  of  the  disgraced  minister,  contemptuously  cast 
the  headless  trunk  on  the  sand. 

While  England's  sufferings,  from  disasters  abroad 
and  discord  at  home,  were  thus  avenged  on  the 
queen's  favorite,  the  king  was  regarded  with  pity 
and  compassion.  Henry,  in  fact,  was  looked  upon 
as  the  victim  of  fate ;  and  a  prophecy,  supposed  to 
have  been  uttered  by  his  father,  was  cited  to  ac- 
count for  all  his  misfortunes.  The  hero-king,  ac- 


26  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

cording  to  rumor,  had,  on  hearing  of  his  son's  birth 
at  "Windsor,  shaken  his  head,  and  remarked  pro- 
phetically, "  I,  Henry  of  Monmouth,  have  gained 
much  in  my  short  reign  ;  Henry  of  Windsor  shall 
reign  much  longer,  and  lose  all.  But  GOD'S  will 
be  done." 

Margaret  of  Anjou  shared  her  favorite's  unpopu- 
larity ;  and,  when  she  reached  the  age  of  twenty, 
the  crown  which  had  been  placed  on  her  head  amid 
so  much  applause  became  a  crown  of  thorns.  Ex- 
asperated at  the  loss  of  their  Continental  conquests, 
Englishmen  recalled  to  mind  that  she  was  a  kins- 
woman and  protegee  of  the  King  of  France ;  and 
when  it  was  known  that,  to  secure  her  hand  for 
their  sovereign,  Maine  and  Anjou  had  been  surren- 
dered, sturdy  patriots  described  her  as  the  cause  of 
a  humiliating  peace,  and,  with  bitter  emphasis,  de- 
nounced her  as  "The  Foreign  Woman." 

These  men  were  not  altogether  unreasonable. 
In  fact,  the  case  proved  much  worse  for  England 
than  even  they  anticipated ;  and,  ere  long.  France 
was  gratified  with  a  thorough  revenge  on  the  foe 
by  Avhom  she  had  been  humbled  to  the  dust,  from 
having  placed  on  the  Plantagenets'  throne  a  princess 
capable,  by  pride  and  indiscretion,  of  rousing  a  civil 
war  that  ruined  the  Plantagenets'  monarchy. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  DUKE  OF  YORK  AND  THE  KING-MAKER. 

WHEN  Suffolk  fell  a  victim  to  the  popular  indig- 
nation, Eichard,  Duke  of  York,  first  prince  of  the 
blood,  was  governing  Ireland,  with  a  courage  wor- 
thy of  his  high  rank,  and  a  wisdom  worthy  of  his 
great  name.  Indeed,  his  success  was  such  as  much 
to  increase  the  jealousy  with  which  the  queen  had 
ever  regarded  the  heir  of  the  Plantagenets. 

York  was  descended,  in  the  male  line,  from  Ed- 
mund of  Langley,  fifth  son  of  the  third  Edward, 
and  was  thus  heir-presumptive  to  the  crown  which 
the  meek  Henry  Avore.  But  the  duke  had  another 
claim,  which  rendered  him  more  formidable  than,  as 
heir-presumptive,  he  would  ever  have  made  himself; 
for,  through  his  mother,  Anne  Mortimer,  daughter 
of  an  Earl  of  March,  he  inherited  the  blood  of 
Lionel  of  Clarence,  elder  brother  of  John  of  Gaunt, 
and,  in  this  way,  could  advance  claims  to  the  En- 
glish crown,  which,  in  a  hereditary  point  of  view, 
were  infinitely  superior  to  those  of  the  house  of 
Lancaster. 

Richard  Plantagenet  was  nearly  ten  years  older 
than  King  Henry.  He  first  saw  the  light  in  1412  ; 


28  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

and,  when  a  mere  child,  became,  by  the  execution 
of  his  father,  the  Earl  of  Cambridge,  at  Southamp- 
ton, and  the  fall  of  his  uncle,  the  Duke  of  York,  at 
Agincourt,  heir  of  Edmund  of  LangU'y.  His  fa- 
ther's misfortune  placed  Kichard,  for  a  lime,  under 
attainder;  but  after  the  accession  of  Henry  the 
dignitii-s  of  the  house  of  York  were  restored;  and 
in  1424,  on  the  death  of  Edmund,  last  of  the  Earls 
of  March,  the  young  Plantagenet  succeeded  to  the 
feudal  power  of  the  house  of  Mortimer. 

An  illustrious  pedigree  and  a  great  inheritance 
rendered  York  a  most  important  personage ;  and, 
as  years  passed  over,  he  was,  by  Gloucester's  influ- 
ence, appointed  Regent  of  France.  In  that  situa- 
tion the  duke  bore  himself  like  a  brave  leader  in 
war  and  a  wise  ruler  in  peace  ;  but,  as  it  was  fear- 
ed that  he  would  obstruct  the  surrender  of  Maine 
and  Anjou.  he  was  displaced  by  Suffolk,  and  suc- 
ceeded by  the  Dnkc  of  Somerset,  who,  it  was  well 
known,  would  be  most  accommodating. 

When  York  returned  to  England,  the  queen,  not 
relishing  a  rival  so  near  the  throne,  determined  to 
send  him  out  of  the  way.  She,  therefore,  caused 
the  duke  to  be  appointed,  for  ten  years,  to,  the  gov- 
ernment of  Ireland,  and  then  dispatched  armed  men 
to  seize  him  on  the  road  and  imprison  him  in  the 
castle  of  Con  way.  York,  however,  was  fortunate 
enough  to  escape  the  queen's  snares  ;  and,  reaching 


THE  DLKE'S  POPULARITY.  29 

Ireland  in  safety,  he  not  only  gave  peace  to  that 
country,  but,  by  his  skillful  policy,  won  much  favor 
among  the  inhabitants. 

Time  passed  on ;  and  the  disappearance  of  Suf- 
folk, of  Beaufort,  of  Gloucester,  and  of  Bedford  from 
the  theatre  of  affairs  opened  up  a  new  scene.  As 
minister  of  the  king  and  favorite  of  the  queen,  Beau- 
fort and  Suffolk  were  succeeded  by  Somerset;  as 
first  prince  of  blood  and  hero  of  the  people,  Bedford 
and  Gloucester  were  succeeded  by  York.  More- 
over, the  absence  of  the  duke  from  the  country 
caused  much  discontent.  "  If,"  said  the  people,  "  he 
who  brought  the  wild,  savage  Irish  to  civil  fashions 
and  English  urbanity  once  ruled  in  England,  he 
would  depose  evil  counselors,  correct  evil  judges,  and 
reform  all  unamended  matters." 

Firmly  established  the  house  of  Lancaster  then 
was;  but  York  had  friends  sufficiently  powerful  to 
make  him  a  formidable  rival  to  any  dynasty.  In 
youth  he  had  married  Cicely,  daughter  of  Ralph 
Neville,  first  Earl  of  Westmoreland  ;  and,  of  all  the 
English  magnates  of  the  fifteenth  century,  the  Nev- 
illes, who  drew  strength  at  once  from  an  illustrious 
Saxon  origin  and  distinguished  Norman  alliances, 
were  by  far  the  most  powerful  and  popular. 

The  Nevilles  derived  the  descent,  in  the  male  line, 
from  the  Anglo-Saxon  Earls  of  Northumberland. 
Their  ancestor,  Cospatrick,  figured  in  youth  at  the 


30  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

court  of  Edward  the  Confessor,  and.  ivlishing  nei- 
ther the  sway  of  Harold  the  Usurper,  nor  of  William 
the  Conqueror,  passed  most  of  his  life  in  adversity 
and  exile.  After  much  suffering  he  died  at  Nor- 
ham,  on  the  south  bank  of  the  Tweed,  and  left  two 
sons,  who  were  more  fortunate.  One  of  these  found- 
ed the  house  of  Duubar,  whose  ducts  for  hundreds 
of  years  flourished  with  honor  and  renown ;  the 
other  was  grandfather  of  Robert  Fitzmaldred,  who 
married  the  heiress  of  the  Nevilles,  and  \vas  progeni- 
tor of  that  proud  family,  whose  seat  was  long  at 
Raby.  About  the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury the  house  of  Dunbar  fell,  and  groat  was  the  fall 
thereof.  About  the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury the  Nevilles  attained  to  the  earldom  of  West- 
moreland, and  to  a  point  of  grandeur  unrivaled 
among  the  nobles  of  England. 

Among  the  chiefs  of  the  house  of  Neville,  Ralph, 
first  Earl  of  Westmoreland,  was  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant. His  possessions  were  so  extensive  that,  be- 
sides the  castle  of  his  Anglo-Saxon  ancestors  and 
those  of  Brancepath,  Middleham,  and  Sheriff  Hut- 
ton,  inherited  through  Norman  heiresses  of  great 
name,  he  possessed  about  fifty  manor-houses  ;  and 
his  feudal  following  was  so  grand  that,  at  times,  he 
assembled  in  the  great  hall  at  Raby  no  fewer  than 
seven  hundred  knights,  who  lived  on  his  lands  in  time 
of  peace,  and  followed  his  banner  in  war.  Even  the 


THE  NEVILLES.  31 

earl's  children  were  more  numerous  than  those  of 
his  neighbors.  He  was  twice  married ;  and  the 
Duchess  of  York,  known  among  northern  men  as 
"  The  Rose  of  Raby,"  was  the  youngest  of  a  family 
of  twenty-two.  John  Neville,  Ralph's  eldest  son  by 
his  first  countess,  was  progenitor  of  those  chiefs  who, 
as  Earls  of  Westmoreland,  maintained  baronial  rank 
at  Raby,  till  one  of  them  risked  and  lost  all  in  the 
great  northern  rebellion  against  Elizabeth.  Richard 
Neville,  Ralph's  eldest  son  by  his  second  countess, 
obtained  the  hand  of  the  heiress  of  the  Montagues, 
and  with  her  hand  their  earldom  of  Salisbury  and 
their  vast  possessions. 

In  the  Continental  wars  and  domestic  struggles 
in  which  Englishmen  indulged  during  the  fifteenth 
century,  Salisbury  was  recognized  as  a  man  of  mil- 
itary prowess  and  political  influence.  But  almost 
ere  reaching  middle  age  his  fame  grew  pale  before 
that  of  his  eldest  son,  Richard  Neville,  who  espoused 
the  heiress  of  the  Beauehamps,  who,  in  her  right, 
obtained  the  earldom  of  Warwick,  and  who,  as  time 
passed  on,  became  celebrated  throughout  Europe  as 
the  king-maker. 

At  the  name  of  "  The  Stout  Earl,"  as  the  people 
of  England  proudly  called  him,  the  fancy  conjures 
up  a  mail-clad  man  of  the  tallest  stature  and  the 
most  majestic  proportions ;  with  dark  brown  hair 
clustering  over  a  magnificent  head,  resting  firmly 


32  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

and  gracefully  on  mighty  shoulders ;  a  broAv  marked 
with  thought,  perhaps  not  without  traces  of  care;  a 
complexion  naturally  fair,  but  somewhat  bronzed  by 
exposure  to  the  sun  and  wind  ;  a  frank  and  open 
countenance  lighted  up  with  an  eye  of  deep  blue, 
and  reflecting  the  emotions  of  the  soul,  as  clouds 
are  reflected  in  a  clear  lake ;  and  a  presence  so  no- 
ble and  heroic  that,  compared  with  him,  the  princes 
and  peers  of  our  day  would  sink  into  utter  insignifi- 
cance. Unfortunately,  no  portrait  capable  of  con- 
veying an  adequate  idea  of  Warwick's  appearance 
exists  for  the  instruction  of  our  generation ;  but 
traditions  and  chronicles  lead  to  the  conclusion 
that,  if  a  Vandyke  or  a  Reynolds  had  existed  in  the 
fifteenth  century  to  transmit  to  posterity  the  king- 
maker as,  in  form  and  feature,  he  appeared  to  his 
contemporaries  in  Westminster  Hall,  in  Warwick 
Castle,  or  on  Towton  Field,  such  a  portrait,  by  such 
an  artist,  would  not  belie  our  conceptions  as  to  the 
personal  grandeur  of  the  warrior-statesman  of  medi- 
aeval England. 

But,  however  that  might  be,  Warwick  was  the 
hero  of  his  own  times.  From  early  youth  he  was 
in  great  favor  with  the  people ;  and,  as  years  passed 
on,  his  frankness,  affability,  sincerity,  love  of  justice, 
and  hatred  of  oppression  endeared  him  to  their 
hearts.  In  an  age  of  falsehood  and  fraud,  his  word 
was  never  broken  nor  his  honor  tarnished.  Even 
the  lofty  patrician  pride,  which  rendered  him  an 


THE  KING-MAKER.  33 

object  of  mingled  awe  and  envy  to  the  Woodvilles, 
the  Howards,  and  the  Herberts,  recommended  him 
to  the  multitude ;  for  the  new  men,  whom  the  de- 
scendant of  Cospatrick  Avould  not  recognize  as  his 
peers,  were  the  instruments  used  by  despotic  sover- 
eigns to  grind  the  faces  of  the  poor.  Moreover, 
Warwick's  patriotism  was  ardent;  and  the  nation 
remarked  with  gratification,  that  "  The  Stout  Earl" 
was  animated  by  all  those  English  sympathies  which, 
banished  from  courts  and  parliaments,  still  found  a 
home  in  cottage  and  in  grange. 

Besides  being  the  most  patriotic,  Warwick  had  the 
good  fortune  to  be  the  richest,  of  England's  patri- 
cians ;  and  his  immense  revenues  were  expended  in 
such  a  way  that  his  praise  as  the  people's  friend  was 
ever  on  the  tongues  of  the  poor  and  needy.  His 
hospitality  knew  no  bounds.  The  gate  of  his  man- 
sion in  London  stood  open  to  all  comers ;  eix  oxen 
were  usually  consumed  at  a  breakfast ;  no  human 
being  was  sent  hungry  away ;  and  every  fighting 
man  had  the  privilege  of  walking  into  the  kitchen 
and  helping  himself  to  as  much  meat  as  could  be 
carried  away  on  the  point  of  a  dagger.  At  the  same 
time,  thirty  thousand  persons  are  said  to  have  feast- 
ed daily  at  the  earl's  mansions  and  castles  in  vari- 
ous parts  of  England. 

And  it  was  not  merely  as  a  patriot  and  a  popular 
patrician  that  Richard  Neville  was  distinguished,  for 
C 


34  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

great  was  his  renown  as  a  warrior  and  a  statesman. 
On  fields  of  fight  his  bearing  reminded  men  of  the 
Paladins  of  romance  ;  and  when  he  broke,  sword  in 
hand,  into  foemen's  ranks,  the  cry  of  "A  Warwick ! 
A  Warwick !"  did  more  service  to  his  friends  than 
could  the  lances  of  five  hundred  knights.  While 
Warwick's  martial  prowess  made  him  the  idol  of 
the  soldiery,  his  capacity  for  affairs  secured  him  gen- 
eral confidence  and  admiration.  "  The  Stout  Earl," 
said  the  people,  "  is  able  to  do  any  thing,  and  with- 
out him  nothing  can  be  done  well." 

With  such  a  friend  as  Warwick  in  England  the 
Duke  of  York  doubtless  felt  secure  that  his  heredi- 
tary claims  were  in  little  danger  of  being  quite  for- 
gotten during  his  absence.  The  duke  was  in  Ire- 
land, when  an  incident,  immortalized  by  Shakspeare, 
gave  life  and  color  to  the  rival  factions.  One  day 
a  violent  dispute  as  to  the  rights  of  the  houses  of 
York  and  Lancaster  took  place  in  the  Temple  Gar- 
dens. The  disputants,  "  The  Stout  Earl"  and  the 
Duke  of  Somerset,  appealed  to  their  friends  to  take 
sides  in  the  controversy  ;  but  these,  being  the  barons 
of  England,  declined  to  enter  upon  such  "  nice  sharp 
quillets  of  the  law."  '  Warwick  thereupon  plucked 
a  white  rose,  and  Somerset  a  red  rose ;  and  each 
asked  his  friends  to  follow  his  example.  Thus  orig- 
inated the  badges  of  the  chiefs  who  involved  En- 
gland in  that  sanguinary  struggle  celebrated  by  po- 
ets and  chroniclers  as  the  Wars  of  the  Roses. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    CAPTAIN    OF    KENT. 

IN  the  summer  of  1450  there  was  a  ferment 
among  the  commons  of  Kent.  For  some  time,  in- 
deed, the  inhabitants  of  that  district  of  England 
had  been  discontented  with  the  administration  of 
affairs ;  but  now  they  were  roused  to  action  by 
rumors  that  Margaret  of  Anjou,  holding  them  re- 
sponsible for  the  execution  of  Suffolk,  had  vowed 
revenge  ;  that  a  process  of  extermination  was  to  be 
forthwith  commenced ;  and  that  the  country,  from 
the  Thames  to  the  Straits  of  Dover,  was  to  be  con- 
verted into  a  hunting-forest  for  the  queen  and  her 
favorite?. 

About  the  middle  of  June,  while  the  indignation 
of  the  Kentishmen  was  at  its  height,  a  military 
adventurer,  who  has  since  been  known  as  "Jack 
Cade,"  but  who  called  himself  John  Mortimer,  and 
gave  out  that  his  mother  was  a  Lacy,  suddenly  ap- 
peared among  the  malcontents,  informed  them  that 
he  was  related  to  the  Duke  of  York,  and  offered  to 
be  their  captain.  According  to  the  chroniclers,  he 
was  "a  young  man  of  goodly  stature,  and  pregnant 
wit,"  and  he  told  his  story  so  plausibly,  that  the 


36  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

men  of  Kent  believed  he  was  York's  cousin.  De- 
lighted with  the  notion  of  having  found  a  Mortimer 
to  lead  them  to  battle,  and  to  free  them  from  op- 
pression, the  people  crowded  by  thousands  to  his 
standard ;  and  Cade,  having  assumed  the  title  of 
Captain  of  Kent,  arrayed  them  in  good  order, 
marched  toward  London,  and  encamped  on  Black- 
heath. 

The  men  of  Kent  were  not  foes  to  be  des]>i~c<l. 
They  had  ever  claimed  the  privilege  of  marching  in 
the  van  of  England's  army,  and  had  so  borne  them- 
selves on  fields  of  fight,  that  their  courage  was  be- 
yond dispute.  The  determined  spirit  by  which 
they  were  known  to  be  animated  rather  daunted 
the  court;  and  the  king,  in  alarm,  sent  to  ask  why 
they  had  left  their  homes.  Cade  replied  in  a  man- 
ner at  which  a  government  owing  its  existence  to  a 
revolution  had  little  reason  to  take  umbrage.  He 
sent  a  document,  entitled  "  Complaint  of  the  Com- 
mons of  Kent,"  containing  a  statement  of  griev- 
ances, demanding  speedy  redress,  and  requesting, 
in  respectful  language,  the  dismissal  of  the  cpjrupt 
men  by  whom  the  king  was  surrounded,  and  tin1 
recall  of  "  the  Duke  of  York,  late  exiled  from  the 
royal  presence." 

The  queen  and  her  friends  saw  that  something 
must  be  done,  and  that  quickly.  An  army  AMIS, 
therefore,  levied  in  the  king's  name ;  and,  at  the 


CADE'S  VICTORY  AT  SEVENOAKS.  37 

head  of  it,  Henry  advanced  to  Blackheath ;  but 
Cade,  wishing  to  draw  the  royal  force  into  Kent, 
broke  up  his  camp  and  retreated  to  the  quiet  old 
market-town  of  Sevenoaks.  The  queen,  doubtless 
somewhat  surprised  at  the  storm  she  had  raised, 
dreaded  the  possibility  of  the  king  being  environed 
by  the  insurgents.  She,  therefore,  deputed  the 
danger  of  encountering  Cade  to  a  gallant  knight 
named  Humphrey  Stafford,  and,  having  done  so, 
retired  to  Greenwich. 

On  receiving  the  queen's  commands,  Stafford,  and 
some  of  the  court  gallants,  put  on  their  rich  armor 
and  gorgeous  surcoats,  mounted  their  horses,  and, 
with  a  detachment  of  the  royal  army,  dashed  off  to 
engage  the  insurgents,  all  eagerness,  as  it  seemed,  to 
bring  back  the  leader's  head  as  a  trophy.  On  com- 
ing up  with  the  foe,  however,  the  ardor  of  the  gay 
warriors  rapidly  cooled ;  for,  in  posting  his  troops 
in  Sevenoaks  Wood,  the  Captain  of  Kent  had  made 
his  dispositions  with  such  masterly  skill,  that  the 
insurgents  felt  high  confidence,  and  presented  a  for- 
midable front.  Nevertheless,  Stafford  did  not  shrink 
from  an  encounter.  Boldly  dashing  onward,  he  at- 
tacked the  Kentishmen  in  their  strolig-hold.  His 
courage,  however,  was  of  no  avail.  At  the  very  on- 
slaught, he  fell  in  front  of  his  soldiers ;  and  they, 
fighting  with  no  good- will,  allowed  themselves  to  be 
easily  defeated. 


38  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Proud  of  his  victory,  the  Captain  of  Kent  array- 
ed himself  in  Stafford's  rich  armor,  advanced  toward 
London,  encamped  once  more  on  Blackheath,  and 
threatened  to  attack  the  metropolis.  His  success 
had  rendered  him  so  popular  a  hero,  that  the  Kent- 
i.-hmen,  under  the  delusion  that  all  abuses  were  to 
be  reformed,  called  him  ';  Captain  Mendall ;"  and 
the  inhabitants  of  Surrey  and  Sussex,  catching  the 
enthusiasm,  crowded  to  his  camp. 

Margaret  of  Anjou  had  now  cause  for  serious 
alarm.  The  royal  army  could  no  longer  be  relied 
on.  Already  many  of  the  soldiers  had  deserted,  and 
those  who  remained  were  asking,  with  indignation, 
why  the  Duke  of  York  was  not  recalled.  Aware  of 
all  this,  the  king  deputed  Humphrey  Stafford,  first 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  a  popular  favorite,  and  a 
prince  of  the  blood,  to  repair  to  Cade's  camp,  and 
expostulate  with  the  rebels.  The  captain  received 
the  duke  with  all  due  respect,  but  declared  that  the 
insurgents  could  not  lay  down  their  arms,  unless  the 
king  would  hear  their  complaints  in  person,  and 
pledge  his  royal  word  that  their  grievances  should 
be  redressed. 

When  Buckingham  returned  with  Cade's  answer 
to  Greenwich,  there  was  yet  time  for  Henry  to  save 
his  regal  dignity.  Had  he  been  capable  of  laying 
aside  his  saintly  theories  for  a  few  hours,  bracing  on 
his  armor,  mounting  his  steed,  and  riding  forth  with 


THE  KING'S  FLIGHT  TO  KENILWORTH.        39 

words  of  courage  and  patriotism  on  his  lips,  he  might 
have  won  back  the  hearts  of  his  soldiers,  and  either 
scattered  the  insurgent  army  by  force,  or  dissolved 
it  by  persuasion.  To  do  this,  a  king  of  England  did 
not  require  the  animal  courage  of  a  Caeur  de  Lion, 
or  the  political  genius  of  an  English  Justinian.  Any 
of  Henry's  predecessors,  even  the  second  Edward  or 
the  second  Richard,  could  have  mustered  spirit  and 
energy  sufficient  for  the  occasion.  But  the  monk- 
monarch,  having  neither  spirit  nor  energy,  quietly 
resigned  himself  to  his  fate  ;  and  the  queen,  terrified 
at  the  commotion  her  imprudences  had  raised,  dis- 
banded the  royal  army,  charged  Lord  Scales  to  keep 
the  Tower,  and,  leaving  London  to  its  fate,  departed 
with  her  husband  to  seek  security  in  the  strong  cas- 
tle of  Kenihvorth.  There  was  quite  as  little  dis- 
cretion as  dignity  in  the  king's  precipitate  retreat. 
The  most  devoted  adherents  of  the  Red  Rose  might 
well  despair  of  the  house  of  Lancaster  standing  long, 
when  they  heard  that  the  son  of  the  conqueror  of 
Agincourt  had  fled  before  the  ringleader  of  a  rabble. 
Not  slow  to  take  advantage  of  the  king's  absence, 
the  Captain  of  Kent  moved  from  Blackheath  to 
Southwark.  From  that  place  he  sent  to  demand 
entrance  into  London ;  and,  after  a  debate  in  the 
Common  Council,  Sir  Thomas  Chalton,  the  mayor, 
intimated  that  no  opposition  would  be  offered.  Ac- 
cordingly, on  the  3d  of  July,  the  insurgent  leader 


40  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

crossed  London  Bridge — the  single  bridge  of  which 
the  capital  then  boasted — and  led  his  followers  into 
the  city. 

The  inhabitants  of  London  must  have  felt  some 
degree  of  dismay.  Both  courtiers  and  citizens  had 
an  idea  what  a  mob  was — what  violence  and  blood- 
shed the  French  capital  had  witnessed  during  the 
outbreaks  of  the  Cabochiens — of  what  horrors  each 
French  province  had  been  the  scene  during  the  Jac- 
querie. Moreover,  the  ruins  of  the  Savoy,  destroy- 
ed during  Wat  Tyler's  insurrection,  and  towering 
gloomily  on  the  spot  now  occupied  by  the  northern 
approach  to  Waterloo  Bridge,  formed  at  least  one 
memorial  of  what  mischief  even  English  peasants 
and  artisans  were  capable,  when  roused  by  injustice 
and  oppression.  At  first,  however,  the  Captain  of 
Kent  displayed  a  degree  of  moderation  hardly  to  have 
been  anticipated.  Arrayed  in  Stafford's  splendid 
mail,  he  commenced  his  triumphal  entry  by  indulg- 
ing in  a  little  harmless  vanity. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  stopping,  and  striking  his  staff  on 
London  Stone,  "  now  is  Mortimer  Lord  of  London." 

•:  Take  heed,"  said  the  mayor,  who  was  standing 
on  the  threshold  of  his  door,  and  witnessed  the  scene, 
"  take  heed  that  you  attempt  nothing  against  the 
quiet  of  the  city." 

"  Sir,"  answered  Cade,  "  let  the  world  take  notice 
of  our  honest  intentions  by  our  actions." 


CADE  IN  THE  CAPITAL.  41 

All  that  day  the  Captain  of  Kent  appeared  most 
'inxious  to  gain  the  good  opinion  of  the  citizens. 
He  issued  proclamations  against  plunder,  did  his  ut- 
most to  preserve  discipline,  and  in  the  evening  he 
marched  quietly  back  to  Soutlnvark.  Next  morn- 
ing, however,  he  returned  ;  and,  perhaps,  no  longer 
able  to  restrain  the  thirst  of  his  followers  for  blood, 
he  resolved  to  gratify  them  by  the  execution  of  "  a 
new  man/' 

Among  the  most  obnoxious  of  the  king's  minis- 
ters was  James  Fiennes,  who  held  the  office  of 
lord  chamberlain,  and  enjoyed  the  dignity  of  Lord 
Say.  The  rapid  rise  of  this  peer  to  wealth  and 
power  had  rendered  him  an  object  of  dislike  to  the 
old  nobility;  and  his  connection  with  Suffolk's  ad- 
ministration had  rendered  him  an  object  of  hatred 
to  the  people.  Besides,  he  had  lately  purchased 
Knole  Park,  in  the  vicinity  of  Sevenoaks,  and-  per- 
haps had,  as  lord  of  the  soil,  given  offense  to  the 
commons  of  Kent  by  trenching  on  some  of  those 
privileges  which  they  cherished  so  fondly. 

Ere  entering  London,  the  insurgents  had  made  up 
their  minds  to  have  Lord  Say's  head ;  and,  aware 
of  the  odium  attached  to  his  name,  the  unpopular 
minister  had  taken  refuge  with  Lord  Scales  in  the 
Tower.  Scales  had  seen  much  service  in  France, 
and  highly  distinguished  himself  in  the  wars  of  the 
fifth  Henry ;  but  now  he  had  reached  his  fiftieth 


ij  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

summer ;  his  bodily  strength  had  decayed ;  and  time 
had  perhaps  impaired  the  martial  spirit  that  had 
animated  his  youthful  exploits.  At  all  events,  in- 
stead of  defending  Lord  Say  to  the  last,  as  might 
have  been  expected,  Scales  allowed  him  to  be  taken 
from  the  Tower  and  carried  to  Guildhall,  and  on 
the  ill-fated  lord's  arrival  there  the  Captain  of  Kent 
compelled  the  mayor  and  aldermen  to  arraign  him 
as  a  traitor.  In  vain  Say  protested  against  the  pro- 
ceeding, and  demanded  a  trial  by  his  peers.  The 
captain  twitted  him  with  being  a  mock  patrician, 
and  insisted  upon  the  judges  condemning  the  "  buck- 
ram lord."  At  length  the  insurgents  lost  patience, 
hurried  their  prisoner  into  Cheapside,  and,  having 
there  beheaded  him  without  farther  ceremony,  hast- 
ened to  execute  vengeance  upon  his  son-in-law,  Sir 
James  Cromer,  who,  as  sheriff  of  Kent,  had  incurred 
their  displeasure. 

Intoxicated  with  triumph  as  the  Captain  of  Kent 
might  be,  the  daring  adventurer  felt  the  reverse  of 
easy  while  passing  himself  off  as  a  Mortimer,  and 
could  not  help  dreading  the  consequence  of  his  real 
origin  being  revealed  to  those  whom  he  had  deluded. 
Rumors  were  indeed  creeping  about  that  his  name 
was  Jack  Cade  ;  that  he  was  a  native  of  Ireland  ; 
that  in  his  own  country  he  had,  for  some  time, 
lived  in  the  household  of  a  knight,  but  that  having 
killed  a  woman  and  child  he  had  entered  the  French 


A  BATTLE  AT  THE  BRIDGE.  43 

service,  and  acquired  the  military  skill  which  he 
had  displayed  against  Stafford.  Moreover,  some 
chroniclers  state  that,  to  preclude  the  possibility  of 
exposure,  he  mercilessly  executed  those  who  were 
suspected  to  know  any  thing  of  his  antecedents, 
and  endeavored  to  insure  the  fidelity  of  his  adher- 
ents by  allowing  them  to  perpetrate  various  kinds 
of  enormity. 

The  citizens  had  hitherto  submitted  with  pa- 
tience ;  but  on  the  5th  of  July  a  provoking  outrage 
roused  them  to  resistance.  On  that  day  Cade,  hav- 
ing gratified  bis  vanity  and  satiated  his  thirst  for 
blood,  began  to  think  of  spoil.  He  commenced  op- 
erations under  peculiar  circumstances.  After  din- 
ing with  one  of  the  citizens  he  requited  the  hospi- 
tality of  his  host  by  plundering  the  house,  and  the 
example  of  the  captain  was  so  faithfully  followed  by 
his  men  that  the  Londoners  perceived  the  propriety 
of  doing  something  for  their  defense.  When,  there- 
fore, Cade  led  his  forces  back  to  Southwark  for  the 
night,  and  the  shades  of  evening  settled  over  Lon- 
don, the  inhabitants  took  counsel  with  Lord  Scales, 
and  resolved  upon  fortifying  the  bridge  so  as  to  pre- 
vent his  return. 

While  Cade  was  passing  the  night  of  the  5th  of 
July  at  Southwark,  reposing  on  his  laurels,  as  it 
were,  at  the  White  Hart,  news  was  carried  to  him 
that  Lord  Scales  and  the  citizens  were  preparing  to 


44  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

resist  his  return.  With  characteristic  decision  the 
Captain  of  Kent  sprang  to  arms,  declared  he  should 
force  a  passage  forthwith,  mustered  his  men,  and 
led  them  to  the  attack.  Fortune,  however,  now  de- 
clared against  him.  A  fierce  combat  took  place, 
and  the  citizens  defended  the  bridge  so  courageous- 
ly that  after  a  struggle  of  six  hours  the  insurgents 
were  fain  to  retire  to  Southwark. 

The  courage  of  the  rnob  now  cooled ;  and  the 
king's  ministers  determined  to  try  the  effect  of  prom- 
ises never  intended  to  be  redeemed.  Accordingly, 
William  "\Vaynflete,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  appear- 
ed with  an  offer  of  pardon  to  all  who  would  return 
peaceably  home.  At  first  the  insurgents  were  di- 
vided in  opinion  about  accepting  the  bishop's  terms  ; 
but  Cade  showed  an  inclination  to  grasp  at  the  par- 
don, and  finally  all  dispersed.  The  Captain  of  Kent, 
however,  had  as  little  intention  as  the  government 
to  act  with  honor;  and  within  ten  days  he  again  ap- 
peared in  Southwark  with  a  considerable  following. 
This  time,  however,  the  citizens,  elate  with  victory, 
presented  a  firm  front ;  and,  dismayed  at  their  threat- 
ening aspect,  Cade  retreated  to  Rochester.  While 
there,  terrified  at  the  feuds  of  his  followers,  he  learn- 
ed with  horror  that  a  thousand  marks  had  been  of- 
fered for  his  apprehension ;  and,  alarmed  at  the  prob- 
ability of  being  delivered  up,  he  galloped  across  the 
country  toward  the  coast  of  Sussex,  and,  for  some 
time,  wandered  about  in  disguise. 


CADE'S  CATASTROPHE.  45 

The  Captain  of  Kent  was  not  destined  to  elude 
the  vengeance  of  the  government  which  he  had  de- 
fied. An  esquire  of  the  county,  named  Alexander 
Iden,  pursued  the  despairing  insurgent,  and  found 
him  lurking  in  a  garden  at  Rothfield.  Cade  did  not 
yield  to  his  fate  without  a  struggle.  Drawing  his 
sword,  he  stood  upon  his  defense  ;  and  both  the  cap- 
tain and  the  esquire  being  men  of  strength  and  cour- 
age, a  desperate  conflict  ensued.  The  victory,  how- 
ever, fell  to  Iden ;  and  Cade's  head,  after  being  car- 
ried to  the  king,  was  set  on  London  Bridge,  his  face 
turned  toward  the  hills  of  Kent.  Many  of  his  com- 
panions, in  spite  of  Bishop  Waynflete's  promise  of 
pardon,  were  subsequently  taken  and  executed  as 
traitors. 

Such  was  the  end  of  a  popular  tumult,  the  origin 
of  which  remains  in  considerable  obscurity.  Some 
asserted  that  Jack  Cade  was  merely  an  agent  of 
Richard  Plantagenet,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  describe 
"  Captain  Mendall"  as  "  one  of  the  Duke  of  York's 
firebrands."  No  evidence  exists,  however,  to  show 
that  the  "  high  and  mighty  prince,"  freely  as  his 
great  name  might  have  been  used  by  the  insurgents, 
had  any  tiring  to  do  with  the  enterprise.  Never- 
theless the  insurrection  was  not  without  influence 
on  the  duke's  fortunes,  and  it  has  ever  been  regarded 
as  a  prelude  to  the  fierce  struggle  between  the  houses 
of  York  and  Lancaster. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    RIVAL    DUKES. 

ABOUT  the  end  of  August,  1451,  a  rumor  reached 
the  court  of  Westminster  that  the  Duke  of  York  had 
suddenly  left  Ireland.  The  queen  was  naturally 
somewhat  alarmed ;  for,  during  Cade's  insurrection, 
the  duke's  name  had  been  used  in  such  a  way  as  to 
test  his  influence,  and  no  doubt  remained  of  the  pop- 
ularity he  enjoyed  among  the  commons. 

Margaret  of  Anjou  had  no  wish  to  see  York  in 
London.  On  the  pretext,  therefore,  that  the  duke 
came  with  too  large  a  force,  the  queen,  at  Somer- 
instigation,  dispatched  Lord  Lisle,  son  of  the 
famous  Talbot,  to  prevent  his  landing.  York,  how- 
ever, eluded  the  vigilance  of  his  enemies,  made  his 
way  to  London,  paid  his  respects  to  the  king,  com- 
plained of  the  misgovernment  under  which  the  coun- 
try was  suffering ;  and,  still  mute  as  to  his  inten- 
tions, retired  to  Fotheringay,  a  castle  which  had  been 
built  by  his  ancestor,  Edmund  of  Langley. 

The  absence  of  York  from  court  exercised  more 
influence  in  London  than  his  presence  could  have 
done,  and  soon  after  his  return  from  Ireland  a  mem- 
ber of  the  House  of  Commons  boldly  proposed  that, 


YORK  AND  SOMERSET.  47 

since  Henry  had  no  issue  and  no  prospect  of  any,  the 
duke  should  be  declared  heir  to  the  throne.  For  his 
temerity  this  senator  was  committed  to  the  Tower ; 
but  the  Commons,  who  were  not  thus  to  be  daunted, 
passed  a  bill  of  attainder  against  the  deceased  Duke 
of  Suffolk,  and  presented  a  petition  to  the  king  for 
the  dismissal  of  Somerset,  who  was  Suffolk's  suc- 
cessor and  York's  foe. 

The  name  of  the  Duke  of  Somerset  was  Edmund 
Beaufort.  He  was  the  illegitimate  grandson  of  John 
of  Gaunt,  nephew  of  Cardinal  Beaufort,  and  brother 
of  that  fair  damsel  whom  James,  the  poet-king  of 
Scots,  had  wooed  at  Windsor,  under  circumstances 
so  romantic.  He  had,  for  several  years,  been  Ke- 
gent  of  France,  and  in  that  capacity  displayed  con- 
siderable vigor ;  but  the  loss  of  Normandy  occurred 
during  his  government,  and  this  misfortune,  coupled 
with  his  violent  temper,  and  the  fact  of  his  enjoying 
the  queen's  favor,  rendered  Somerset's  name  as  odi- 
ous to  the  multitude  as  that  of  Suffolk  had  ever  been. 
The  queen,  however,  not  being  inclined  to  bow  to 
popular  opinion,  resisted  the  demand  of  the  House 
of  Commons  for  her  favoi'ite's  dismissal ;  and  the 
strife  between  the  parties  was  carried  on  with  a  de- 
gree of  violence  which,  in  any  other  country,  would 
have  produced  immediate  war  and  bloodshed. 

The  heir  of  the  Plantagenets,  however,  recognized 
the  necessity  of  acting  with  prudence.  In  fact,  the 


48  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Lancastrian  dynasty  was  still  so  much  in  favor  with 
the  nation  that  an  attempt  on  York's  part  to  seize 
the  crown  would  inevitably  have  added  to  the  power 
of  his  enemies ;  but  in  any  efforts  to  put  down 
Somerset,  and  the  men  whom  that  obnoxious  min- 
ister used  as  the  instruments  of  his  tyranny,  the  duke 
well  knew  that  he  carried  with  him  the  hearts  of 
the  people  and  of  those  great  patricians  whom  the 
people  regarded  as  their  natural  leaders. 

Though  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland  adhered  to  the 
house  of  Lancaster  the  alliance  of  the  other  Nevilles 
would  of  itself  have  rendered  York  formidable ;  and, 
besides  the  Nevilles,  tnere  were  many  feudal  mag- 
nates who  shared  York's  antipathy  to  Somerset. 
Thomas,  Lord  Stanley,  who  had  married  Warwick's 
sister ;  John  Mowbray,  Duke  of  Norfolk,  descended 
from  a  granddaughter  of  the  first  Edward  ;  John  De 
Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford,  whose  ancestors  had  been  great 
in  England  since  the  Conquest ;  and  Thomas  Courte- 
nay,  Earl  of  Devon,  whose  pedigree  dated  from  flic 
age  of  Charlemagne,  could  not  witness  without  in- 
dignation the  domination  of  Beauforts.  "We  are 
unwilling,"  such  men  must  have  murmured,  "  to  see 
the  court  of  Westminster  converted  into  a  sty  for 
the  brood  of  Katherine  Swynford." 

York,  for  some  time,  hesitated  to  strike  a  blow ; 
but,  at  length,  and  not  without  reason,  he  lost  all 
patience.  Indeed,  the  Yorkists  affirmed  that  a  plot 
had  been  formed  for  imnri Boning  their  chief,  and 


YORK'S  MARCH  TO  BRENT  HEATH.     49 

putting  1dm  secretly  to  death ;  and  the  memory  of 
Humphrey  of  Gloucester's  fate  rendered  people 
credulous  of  any  such  report.  To  baffle  any  such 
criminal  project,  a  movement  against  Somerset  was 
resolved  upon  by  the  partisans  of  the  White  Rose ; 
and,  about  the  opening  of  1452,  Yoi'k  repaired  to 
his  castle  of  Ludlow,  gathered  an  army  among  the 
retainers  of  the  house  of  Mortimer,  and,  declaring 
that  he  had  no  evil  intentions  against  the  king,  to 
whom  he  offered  to  swear  fealty  on  the  sacrament, 
commenced  his  march  toward  London. 

The  Lancastrians  were  alarmed  at  the  intelligence 
that  the  duke  was  in  arms ;  and  forces  were  mus- 
tered to  intercept  his  march.  But  while  the  royal 
army  went  westward  by  one  road  York  came  east- 
ward by  another,  and,  with  several  thousand  men  at 
his  back,  appeared  at  the  gates  of  London.  The 
metropolis,  however,  had  aided  in  that  revolution 
which  placed  Henry  of  Bolingbroke  on  the  throne, 
and  still  continued  well  affected  to  the  house  of 
Lancaster.  York  did  not,  therefore,  meet  with  such 
a  reception  as  his  friends  could  have  wished.  The 
gates,  in  fact,  were  shut  in  his  face  ;  and,  not  wish- 
ing to  exasperate  the  citizens  by  acts  of  violence,  he 
marched  up  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  crossed  the 
river  at  Kingston,  and,  having  been  joined  by  the 
Earl  of  Devon,  encamped  his  army  on  Brent  Heath, 
near  Dartford. 

D 


DO  THF  "WARS  OF  THE  ROSKs 

Henry,  meantime,  ventured  on  taking  the  field, 
and  pitched  his  pavilion  on  Blackheath.  It  soon 
appeared,  however,  that  on  neither  side  was  there 
any  inclination  to  involve  the  country  in  civil  war. 
Negotiations  were  therefore  opened ;  and  two  hish- 
ops,  commissioned  to  act  for  the  king,  proceeded  to 
the  camp  of  the  Yorkists  and  demanded  of  their 
chief  why  he  had  appeared  in  arms. 

The  duke,  who  would  seem  to  have  been  unaware 
of  the  utter  insincerity  of  his  enemies,  answered  that 
repeated  attempts  had  been  made  to  efi'.Tt  hi-  ruin. 
and  that  he  was  in  arms  for  his  own  >afc(v.  The 
bishops,  who  well  knew  how  truly  York  spoke,  ad- 
mitted that  he  had  been  watched  with  a  jealous  eye, 
but  assigned  as  a  reason  that  the  treasonable  talk 
of  his  adherents  justified  suspicion.  On  the  king's 
part,  however,  they  acquitted  him  of  all  treason, 
saying  that  Henry  esteemed  him  as  a  true  man  and 
well-beloved  cousin ;  and  York,  maintaining  a  high 
tone,  insisted  that  all  persons  who  had  broken  the 
laws  of  the  realm,  especially  those  who  had  been 
indicted  for  treason,  should  be  put  upon  their  trial. 
The  demand  was  so  reasonable  that  compliance 
could  not  with  decency  be  refused ;  and  Henry, 
having  promised  that  every  offender  should  be  pun- 
ished, issued  an  order  for  the  apprehension  of  Som- 
erset, and  gave  York  to  understand  that  he  should 
ha\e  a  place  in  the  council. 


THE  MONK-MONARCH'S   BAD  FAITH  61 

Far  from  doubting  the  king's  good  faith,  York 
disbanded  his  army,  and  agreed  to  a  personal  inter- 
view with  his  royal  kinsman.  The  result  was  not 
the  most  satisfactory.  It  proved  beyond  question 
that,  however  saintly  his  theories,  Henry  was  capa- 
ble of  acting  with  an  utter  disregard  of  honor — that 
he  had  little  sympathy  with  the  fine  sentiment  of 
his  ancestor,  John  de  Valois,  who,  when  advised  to 
violate  a  treaty  with  our  third  Edward,  exclaimed : 
"  Were  truth  and  sincerity  banished  from  every 
part  of  the  earth,  they  ought  yet  to  be  found  in  the 
mouths  and  the  hearts  of  kings."  It  appears  that 
the  queen  had  concealed  Somerset  behind  the  arras 
of  the  king's  tent,  and  no  sooner  did  York  enter, 
and  repeat  what  he  had  said  to  the  two  bishops, 
than  the  favorite,  stepping  from  behind  a  curtain, 
offered  to  prove  his  innocence,  and  called  York  liar 
and  traitor. 

The  scene  which  followed  may  easily  be  imagined. 
Somerset  was  violent  and  insolent ;  Henry,  alarmed 
and  silent;  York,  indignant  and  scornful.  The  duke 
could  now  entertain  no  doubt  that  he  had  been  be- 
trayed ;  but  his  courage  did  not  desert  him.  He 
retorted  Somerset's  epithets  with  interest,  and  was 
turning  haughtily  to  take  his  departure,  when  in- 
formed that  he  \vas  a  captive.  Somerset  then  pro- 
posed a  summary  trial  and  execution  ;  but  the  court- 
iers shrunk  from  the  opprobrium  of  another  mur- 


52  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

der.  The  king,  who,  save  in  the  case  of  Lollards, 
had  no  love  of  executions,  took  the  more  moderate 
view  ;  and  the  duke,  instead  of  perishing  on  the  scaf- 
fold, was  sent  as  a  state  prisoner  to  the  Tower  of 
London. 

While  the  queen  and  her  friends  were  still  bent 
on  York's  destruction,  a  rumor  that  his  eldest  son 
Edward,  the  boy-Earl  of  March,  was  coming  from 
Ludlow  at  the  head  of  a  strong  body  of  Welshmen, 
filled  the  council  with  alarm.  The  duke  was  there- 
upon set  at  liberty,  and,  after  making  his  submission, 
allowed  to  retire  to  the  borders  of  Wales,  Havinf 

O 

reached  the  dominions  of  the  Mortimers,  the  heir- 
presumptive  sought  refuge  within  the  walls  of  the 
castles  of  Wigmore  and  Ludlow,  repressed  ambitious 
longings  and  patriotic  indignation,  and,  for  the  resto- 
ration of  better  days  to  himself  and  his  country,  trust- 
ed to  the  chapter  of  accidents  and  the  course  of 
events. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    KING'S    MALADY. 

IN  the  autumn  of  1453  the  queen  was  keeping 
her  court  at  Clarendon;  the  Duke  of  York  was  at 
AVigmore  and  at  Ludlow,  maintaining  a  state  befit- 
ting the  heir  of  the  Mortimers ;  the  barons  were  at 
their  moated  castles,  complaining  gloomily  of  Hen- 
ry's indolence  and  Somerset's  insolence ;  and  the 
people  were  expressing  the  utmost  discontent  at  the 
mismanagement  that  had,  after  a  brave  struggle,  in 
which  Talbot  and  his  son,  Lord  Lisle,  fell,  finally 
lost  Gascony;  when  a  strange  gloom  settled  over 
the  countenances  of  the  Lancastrians,  and  mysteri- 
ous rumors  crept  about  as  to  the  king's  health.  At 
length  the  terrible  truth  came  out,  and  the  Yorkists 
learned  that  Henry  was  suffering  from  an  eclipse  of 
reason,  similar  to  that  which  had  afflicted  his  mater- 
nal grandsire,  the  sixth  Charles  of  France.  In  this 
state  he  was  slowly  removed  from  Clarendon  to 
Westminster. 

About  a  month  after  the  king's  loss  of  reason, 
there  occurred  another  event,  destined  to  exercise 
great  influence  on  the  rival  parties.  At  Westmin- 
ster, on  the  14th  of  October,  1453,  Margaret  of 


54  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Anjou,  after  having  been  for  eight  year?  a  wife, 
without  being  a  mother,  gave  birth  to  an  heir  to 
the  English  crown;  and  the  existence  of  this  boy, 
destined  to  an  end  so  tragic,  while  reviving  the 
courage  of  the  Lancastrians,  inspired  the  partisans 
of  the  White  Kosc  with  a  resolution  to  adopt  bold 
measures  on  behalf  of  their  chief. 

At  first,  indeed,  the  Yorkists  altogether  refused 
to  believe  in  the  existence  of  the  infant  prince. 
When,  however,  that  could  no  longer  be  denied, 
they  declared  that  there  had  been  unfair  play. 
Finally,  they  circulated  reports  injurious  to  Mar- 
garet's honor  as  a  queen  and  reputation  as  a  wom- 
an ;  and  rumor,  which,  ere  this,  h;ul  whispered 
light  tales  of  Rene's  daughter,  took  the  liberty  of 
ascribing  to  Somerset  the  paternity  of  her  son. 
Such  scandals  were  calculated  to  repress  loyal  emo- 
tions; and  the  courtiers  attempted  to  counteract  the 
effect  by  giving  the  child  a  popular  name.  Accord- 
ingly, the  little  prince,  who  had  first  seen  the  light 
on  St.  Edward's  Day,  was  baptized  by  that  name, 
which  was  dear  to  the  people,  as  having  been  borne 
by  the  last  Anglo-Saxon  king,  and  by  the  greatest 
of  the  Plantagenets.  Nobody,  however,  appears 
to  have  supposed  that  because  the  boy  was  named 
Edward,  he  would,  therefore,  prove  equal  in  wis- 
dom and  valor  to  the  English  Justinian,  or  the 
conqueror  of  Cressy,  or  "  the  valiant  and  gentle 


BIRTH  OF  PRINCE  EDWARD.  57 

Prince  of  Wales,  the  flower  of  all  chivalry  in  the 
world." 

The  insanity  of  the  king,  naturally  enough, 
brought  about  the  recall  of  York  to  the  council ; 
and  when  Parliament  met  in  February,  1454,  the 
duke  having,  as  Royal  Commissioner,  opened  the 
proceedings,  the  peers  determined  to  arrive  at  a 
knowledge  of  the  king's  real  condition,  which  the 
queen  had  hitherto  endeavored  to  conceal.  An 
opportunity  soon  occurred. 

On  the  2cl  of  March,  1454,  John  Kempe,  Primate 
and  Chancellor  of  England,  breathed  his  last.  On 
such  occasions  it  was  customary  for  the  House  of 
Lords  to  confer  personally  with  the  sovereign,  and, 
accordingly,  Henry  being  then  at  Windsor,  twelve 
peers  were  deputed  to  go  thither  for  that  purpose. 
Their  reception  was  not  gracious ;  but  they  insisted 
on  entering  the  castle,  and  found  the  king  utterly 
incapable  of  comprehending  a  word.  Three  several 
times  they  presented  themselves  in  his  chamber,  but 
in  vain  ;  and,  returning  to  London,  free  from  any 
doubts,  they  made  a  report  to  the  House  which  con- 
vinced the  most  incredulous.  "  AVe  could  get,"  said 
they,  "  no  answer  or  sign  from  him  for  no  prayer 
nor  desire."  At  the  request  of  the  twelve  peers, 
this  report  was  entered  on  the  records  of  Parlia- 
ment ;  and,  ere  two  days  passed,  Richard,  Duke  of 
York,  was  nominated  Protector  of  England.  His 


58  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

power  was  to  continue  until  the  king  recovered,  oft 
in  the  event  of  Henry's  malady  proving  incurable, 
till  young  Edward  came  of  age. 

The  duke,  when  intrusted  by  Parliament  with 
the  functions  of  Protector,  exercised  the  utmost 
caution;  and,  while  accepting  the  duties  of  the  of- 
fice, was  careful  to  obtain  from  his  peers  the  most 
explicit  declaration  that  he  only  followed  their  no- 
ble commandment  P.  It  is  true  that  one  of  his  fir.-t 
acts  was  to  intrust  the  great  seal  to  the  Earl  of 
Salisbury ;  but,  on  the  whole,  his  moderation  was 
conspicuous;  and  the  claims  of  Prince  Edward,  as 
heir  of  England,  having  been  fully  recognized,  he 
was  created  Prince  of  Wales  and  Earl  of  Che.-irr, 
and  a  splendid  provision  was  made  for  his  mainte- 
nance. 

With  York  at  the  head  of  the  government,  mat- 
ters went  smoothly  till  the  close  of  1454;  but  in 
the  month  of  December  the  king's  recovery  threw 
every  thing  into  disorder.  About  Christmas  Henry 
awoke  as  from  a  confused  dream  ;  and,  on  St.  John's 
Day,  he  sent  his  almoner  with  an  offering  to  Can- 
terbury, and  his  secretary  on  a  similar  errand  to 
the  shrine  of  St.  Edward. 

The  queen's  hopes  were  now  renewed  and  her 
ambitions  stimulated.  Having  in  vain  endeavored 
to  conceal  the  plight  of  her  husband  from  the  na- 
tion, she  marked  his  restoration  with  joy,  and  pre- 


HENRY'S  RECOVERY  59 

sented  the  prince  to  him  with  maternal  pride. 
Henry  was,  perhaps,  slightly  surprised  to  find  him- 
self the  father  of  a  fine  boy ;  but,  manifesting  a 
proper  degree  of  paternal  affection,  he  asked  by 
what  name  his  heir  had  been  failed.  The  queen 
replied  that  he  had  been  named  Edward ;  and  the 
icing,  holding  up  his  hands,  thanked  GOD  that  such 
was  the  case.  He  was  then  informed  that  Cardinal 
Kempe  was  no  more  ;  and  he  remarked,  "  Then  one 
of  the  wisest  lords  in  the  land  is  dead." 

The  king's  recovery  was  bruited  about ;  and,  on 
the  morning  after  Twelfth  Day,  William  Waynflete, 
Bishop  of  Winchester,  paid  the  royal  invalid  a  visit. 
Henry  spoke  to  him  as  rationally  as  ever  he  had 
been  capable. of  doing  ;  declaring,  moreover,  that  he 
was  in  charity  with  all  the  world,  and  wished  his 
lords  were  in  the  same  frame  of  mind.  The  bishop, 
on  leaving  the  king,  was  so  affected  that  he  wept 
for  joy ;  the  news  spread  from  Thames  to  Tweed ; 
and,  from  Kent  to  Northumberland,  the  partisans 
of  the  Red  Rose  congratulated  each  other  on  the 
return  of  good  fortune. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   BATTLE    OF    ST.   ALBAXS. 

WHEN  Henry  recovered  from  his  malady  York 
resigned  the  Protectorship,  and  Margaret  of  Anjou 
again  became  all-powerful.  The  circumstances 
were  such  that  the  exercise  of  moderation,  toward 
friends  and  foes,  would  have  restored  the  Lancas- 
trian queen  to  the  good  opinion  of  her  husband's 
subjects.  Unfortunately  for  her  happiness,  Marga- 
ret allowed  prejudice  and  passion  to  hurry  her  into 
a  defiance  of  law  and  decency. 

It  happened  that,  during  the  king's  illness,  Som- 
erset had  been  arrested  in  the  queen's  great  cham- 
ber, and  sent,  to  keep  his  Christmas  in  the  Tower, 
as  a  preliminary  to  his  being  brought  to  trial.  Xo 
sooner,  however,  did  Margaret  regain  authority, 
than  her  favorite  was  set  at  liberty ;  and  people 
learned  with  indignation  that,  instead  of  having  to 
answer  for  his  offenses  against  the  state,  the  un- 
worthy noble  was  to  be  appointed  Captain-general 
of  Calais.  After  this,  the  Yorkists  became  con- 
vinced that  the  sword  alone  could  settle  the  contro- 
versy;  and,  about  the  spring  of  1455,  the  duke,  re- 
pairing to  Ludlow,  summoned,  for  the  second  time, 


THE  ARMIES  OF  YORK  AND  LANCASTER.   61 

his  retainers,  and  prepared  to  display  his  banner  in 
actual  war  against  the  royal  standard  of  England. 
He  had  soon  the  gratification  of  being  joined  by  the 
two  great  Earls  of  Salisbury  and  Warwick,  by  John 
Mo \vbray,  Duke  of  Norfolk,  and  by  other  men  whose 
rank  and  nobility  lent  lustre  to  the  cause.  Having 
armed  and  arrayed  the  Marchmen  of  Wales,  York 
advanced  toward  the  capital. 

War  was  now  inevitable ;  and  Somerset  did  not 
shrink  from  a  conflict  with  the  prince  whose  life  he 
had  sought  and  whose  vengeance  he  had  defied.  A 
Lancastrian  army  was  forthwith  assembled  ;  and  at 
its  head  Henry  and  Somerset,  accompanied  by  many 
men  of  influence,  marched  from  London  to  face  the 
Yorkists  in  fight.  Sir  Philip  Wentworth  bore  the 
royal  standard  ;  and  with  the  king  went  Humphrey, 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  and  his  son,  Earl  Stafford ; 
James  Butler,  chief  of  the  house  of  Ormond,  whom 
Henry  had  created  Earl  of  Wiltshire ;  Thomas,  Lord 
Clifford,  from  the  Craven  ;  and  Hotspur's  son,  Hen- 
ry Percy,  Earl  of  Northumberland,  who,  having  in 
youth  been  restored  by  Henry  the  Fifth,  now  went 
out,  at  the  age  of  threescore,  to  fight  for  the  crown 
worn  by  Henry's  son.  The  people,  however,  held 
aloof  from  the  contest ;  and  the  army  of  the  Red 
Rose,  composed  entirely  of  nobles,  with  their  knights, 
and  squires,  and  fighting  men,  does  not  appear  to 
have  exceeded  two  thousand  in  number. 


62  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

The  king  had  not  far  to  go  in  search  of  his  kins- 
man. After  passing  the  night  of  Thursday,  the  22d 
of  May,  at  AVatford,  and  proceeding  next  morning  to 
St.  Albans,  the  Lancastrians,  when  about  to  con- 
tinue their  march,  perceived  that  the  hills  in  front 
of  them  were  covered  with  armed  men,  who  moved 
rapidly  in  battle  order  toward  the  ancient  historic 
town.  On  observing  the  approach  of  the  Yorkist 
foe,  the  Lancastrian  leaders  halted,  set  up  the  royal 
standard,  placed  troops  under  the  command  of  Lord 
Clifford  to  guard  the  barriers,  and  sent  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  to  confer  with  the  White  Rose  chiefs, 
who  had  encamped  at  Heyfield. 

Richard  Plantagenet,  though  a  warrior  of  the  high- 
est courage,  had  no  relish  for  bloodshed  ;  and  he  did 
not  forget  that  those  to  whom  he  now  stood  opposed 
were  Englishmen  like  himself.  "When,  therefore, 
Buckingham  went,  in  Henry's  name,  to  demand  why 
York  thus  appeared  before  his  sovereign  in  hostile 
array,  the  duke  professed  great  loyalty,  and  replied 
that  he  would  at  once  lay  down  lii-<  arms  if  the  king 
would  surrender  Somerset  to  justice. 

Buckingham,  whose  affection  for  the  Beauforts 
was  not  excessive,  carried  this  answer  to  Henry  ;  and 
the  duke's  demand  for  the  surrender  of  the  queen's 
favorite  produced  an  effect  which  could  hardly  have 
been  anticipated.  For  once  the  monk-monarch 
showed  some  spark  of  tlio  Plantagenet,  expressed 


THE  BATTLE.  63 

the  utmost  scorn  at  the  message,  and  swore  by  St. 
Edward,  as  if  he  had  been  a  conqueror  ofEvesham, 
"that  he  would  as  soon  deliver  up  his  crown  as  ei- 
ther Somerset  or  the  meanest  soldier  in  his  camp." 

Every  prospect  of  an  accommodation  Avas  now 
dissipated ;  and  the  warriors  of  the  White  Rose, 
who  had  remained  inactive  for  three  hours,  pre- 
pared for  an  encounter.  Having  addressed  his  ad- 
herents, York  advanced,  with  banners  streaming 
and  clarions  sounding,  and  at  noon  commenced  that 
struggle,  which,  thirty  years  later,  was  terminated 
on  the  field  of  Bosworth. 

From  occupying  St.  Albans  the  Lancastrians  had 
the  advantage  of  position,  and  such  hopes  of  victor)' 
that  Somerset's  men  were  ordered  to  put  to  death 
all  the  Yorkists  who  should  l>e  taken  prisoners. 
Moreover,  Clifford  made  a  brave  defense,  and  for  a 
time  the  duke  was  kept  in  check  at  the  barrier?. 
The  Yorkists,  among  other  weapons  of  offense,  had 
guns ;  and  Warwick  and  Salisbury  had  such  a  de- 
gree of  skill  in  using  them  as  their  enemies  could 
not  boast  of.  Yet  so  steadily  Avere  they  resisted  by 
Clifford  that  the  prospect  of  coming  to  close  conflict 
Avith  the  foe  appeared  distant ;  and  the  partisans  of 
York  looked  somewhat  blank.  But  Warwick  was 
not  a  man  to  yield  to  obstacles.  Leading  his  sol- 
diers round  part  of  the  hill  on  which  St.  Albans  is 
situated,  that  great  Avar-chief  broke  do\vn  a  high 


fit  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

wall,  ordered  his  trumpets  to  sound,  crossed  the 
gardens  which  the  wall  inclosed,  and,  shouting 
"A  Warwick!  A  Warwick!"  charged  forward  upon 
the  recoiling  foe.  On  the  Lancastrian  ranks  War- 
wick's presence  produced  an  immediate  impression  ; 
and  the  barriers  having  been  burst,  the  Yorkists, 
encouraged  by  "  The  Stout  Earl's"  war-cry,  rushed 
into  the  town,  and  came  face  to  face  with  their  foes. 

A  conflict  now  took  place  among  the  hou 
the  lanes,  in  the  streets,  and  in  the  market-place. 
The  fight  was  fierce,  as  could  not  fail  to  be  the  case 
in  a  struggle  between  men  who  had  long  cherished, 
while  restraining,  their  mortal  hate  ;  and  the  ancient 
town  was  soon  strewn  with  traces  of  the  battle,  and 
crimsoned  with  the  blood  of  the  slain.  Ticking's 
friends  made  a  desperate  resistance ;  and  delayed 
the  victory  till  the  clash  of  mail  reached  the  monks 
in  the  abbey.  But  Warwick  cheered  on  archer 
and  spearman  to  the  assault ;  and  York,  not  to  be 
baffled,  re-enforced  every  party  that  was  hard-press- 
ed, and  pressed  forward  fresh  warriors  to  relieve  the 
wearjr  and  the  wounded.  Humphrey,  Earl  Stafford, 
bit  the  dust ;  Clifford  fell,  to  be  cruelly  avenged  on 
a  more  bloody  day ;  and  Northumberland,  who  had 
seen  so  many  years  and  fought  so  many  battles,  died 
under  the  weapons  of  his  foes. 

Somerset  appears  at  first  to  have  fought  with  a 
courage  worthy  of  the  reputation  he  had  won  on 


SOMERSET'S  DEFEAT  AND  DEATH.     65 

Continent ;  and  on  hearing  that  Clifford's  sol- 
diers were  giving  way  before  Warwick's  mighty 
onslaught  he  rushed  gallantly  to  the  rescue.  The 
chief  of  the  Beauforf?,  however,  did  not  live  to 
bring  aid  to  the  men  of  the  Craven.  Years  be- 
fore, the  Lancastrian  duke  had  been  admonished  by 
a  fortune-teller  to  beware  of  a  castle ;  and,  finding 
himself  suddenly  under  a  tavern  bearing  that  sign, 
the  warning  occurred  to  his  memory.  Superstitious 
like  his  neighbors,  Somerset  lost  bis  presence  of 
mind,  gave  himself  up  for  lost,  became  bewildered, 
and  was  beaten  down  and  slain.  The  fortune  of  the 
day  being  decidedly  against  the  Red  Rose,  the  Earl 
of  Wiltshire  cast  his  harness  into  a  ditch  and  spurred 
fast  fro  a  the  lost  field  ;  while  Sir  Philip  Wentworth, 
equally  careful  of  his  own  safety,  threw  away  the 
royal  standard,  and  fled  toward  Suffolk.  The  Lan- 
castrians, beaten  and  aware  of  Somerset's  fall,  rush- 
ed through  the  gardens  and  leaped  over  hedges, 
leaving  their  arms  in  the  ditches  and  woods  that 
they  might  escape  the  more  swiftly. 

Ere  this  Henry  had  been  wounded  in  the  neck  by 
an  arrow.  Sad  and  sorrowful,  he  sought  shelter  in 
a  thatched  house  occupied  by  a  tanner.  Thither, 
fresh  from  victory,  went  the  duke  ;  and  treated  his 
vanquished  kinsman  with  every  respect.  Kneeling 
respectfully,  the  conqueror  protested  his  loyalty,  and 
declared  his  readiness  to  obey  the  king.  "  Then," 
E 


86  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

paid  Henry,  "  stop  the  pursuit  and  slaughter,  and  I 
will  do  whatever  you  will."  The  duke,  having  or- 
dered a  cessation  of  hostilities,  led  the  king  to  the 
abbey ;  the  royal  kinsmen,  after  praying  together 
before  the  shrine  of  England's  first  martyr,  journey- 
ed to  London ;  and  Margaret  of  Anjou,  then  with 
her  son  at  Greenwich,  learned,  with  dismay,  that 
her  favorite  was  a  corpse  and  her  husband  a  captive. 
At  such  a  time,  while  shedding  tears  of  bitterness 
and  doubt  within  the  palace  built  by  Humphrey  of 
Gloucester,  the  young  queen  must  have  reflected, 
with  remorse,  on  the  part  she  had  taken  against 
"  The  Good  Duke,"  and  considered  how  different  a 
face  affairs  might  have  worn  in  1455,  if  she  had  not, 
in  1447,  consented  to  the  violent  removal  of  the  last 
stately  pillar  that  supported  the  house  of  Lancaster. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    QUEEN    AND   THE    YORKIST   CHIEFS. 

WHEN  the  battle  of  St.  Albans  placed  the  king 
and  kingdom  of  England  under  the  influence  of  the 
Yorkists,  the  duke  and  his  friends  exercised  their 
authority  with  a  moderation  rarely  exhibited  in  such 
circumstances.  No  vindictive  malice  was  displayed 
against  the  vanquished ;  not  a  drop  of  blood  flowed 
on  the  scaffold ;  not  an  act  of  attainder  passed  the 
Legislature.  Every  thing  was  done  temperately  and 
in  order. 

As  Henry  was  again  attacked  by  his  malady  he 
was  intrusted  to  Margaret's  care,  and  York  was  again 
declared  Protector  of  the  realm,  with  a  provision  that 
he  was  to  hold  the  office,  not  as  before  at  the  king's 
pleasure,  but  until  discharged  from  it  by  the  Lords 
in  Parliament.  Salisbury  was,  at  the  same  time,  in- 
trusted with  the  Great  Seal ;  and  Warwick  was  ap- 
pointed to  the  government  of  Calais.  Comines  calls 
Calais  "  the  richest  prize  in  the  crown  of  England  ;" 
and  the  government  of  the  city  was  an  office  of  great- 
er trust  and  profit  than  any  which  an  English  sov- 
ereign had  to  bestow. 

Margaret  of  Anjou,  however,  was  not  quite  ab- 


68  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

sorbed  in  her  duties  as  wife  and  mother.  While 
educating  her  helpless  son  and  tending  her  yet  more 
helpless  husband,  she  was  bent  on  a  struggle  for  the 
recovery  of  that  power  which  she  had  already  so 
fatally  abused  ;  and  as  necessity  alone  had  made  her 
submit  to  the  authority  of  York  and  his  two  noble 
kinsmen,  who  were  satirized  as  the  "  Triumvirate," 
she  seized  the  earliest  opportunity  of  ejecting  them 
from  power. 

One  day  in  spring,  while  the  queen  was  ponder- 
ing projects  of  ambition,  and  glowing  with  anticipa- 
tions of  vengeance,  two  noblemen  of  high  rank  and 
great  influence  appeared  at  the  palace  of  Greenwich. 
One  of  these  was  Humphrey  Stafford,  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham ;  the  other,  Henry  Beaufort,  Duke  of  Somer- 
set ;  and  their  errand  Avas  to  confer  with  Queen  Mar- 
garet on  the  present  state  of  affairs.  The  queen 
received  them  with  open  arms,  expressed  haughty 
scorn  of  her  potent  foes,  and  reminded  Buckingham 
of  the  son  he  had  lost  at  St.  Albans,  and  Somerset 
of  the  father  he  had  lost  on  the  same  fatal  day.  The 
dukes,  having  listened  to  all  this,  represented  to  Mar- 
garet the  indignity  to  which  the  king  was  subjected 
in  being  deprived  of  all  share  in  the  government, 
while  York  and  his  accomplices  managed  every  thing 
according  to  their  pleasure.  The  queen  heard  her 
Mends  with  delight,  vowed  that  the  triumph  of  the 
Yorkist  chiefs  should  be  brief,  and  resolved  upon 
acting  without  delay. 


\TOH. 


THE  QUEEN'S  COUNCIL  AT  GREENVWCH.  69 

Accordingly  it  was  determined  to  hold  a  council ; 
and  the  enemies  of  York  were  summoned  to  Green- 
wich. After  some  debate  as  to  the  most  politic 
method  of  restoring  the  royal  authority,  the  council 
resolved  that  York  should  be  commanded  to  resign 
the  office  of  protector,  seeing  that  the  king  was  of 
years  and  discretion  sufficient  to  rule  without  a 
guardian,  and  that  Salisbury  should  be  commanded 
to  surrender  the  post  of  chancellor.  "  The  great 
seal,"  they  said,  "  had  never  been  in  his  custody, 
that  which  he  used  having  been  made  since  the 
king's  restraint."  Henry,  for  whose  opinion  none 
of  the  Lancastrians  had  any  respect,  was  easily  pre- 
vailed upon  to  give  his  sanction  to  their  measures, 
and  York  and  Salisbury  were  discharged  from  their 
high  offices,  and  summoned  to  appear  before  the 
council. 

The  duke  and  the  earl  were  much  too  wise  to 
place  themselves  in  the  power  of  enemies  Avho  had, 
on  former  occasions,  proved  so  unscrupulous.  They 
answered  boldly  that  there  existed  no  power  to  dis- 
place them  or  command  their  appearance,  save  in 
Parliament.  When,  however,  the  houses  assembled 
after  Christmas,  1456,  Henry  presented  himself  and 
demanded  back  his  regal  power.  Every  body  was 
surprised ;  but  no  doubt  was  expressed  as  to  the 
king's  sanity,  and  York,  without  a  murmur,  resign- 
ed the  protectorship. 


70  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

The  queen  was  not  content  with  having  deprived 
the  duke  and  the  earl  of  power.  Her  ideas  of  re- 
venge went  far  beyond  such  satisfaction ;  and  she 
occupied  her  brain  with  schemes  for  putting  her  en- 
emies under  her  feet.  Feigning  indifference  to  af- 
fairs of  state,  the  artful  woman  pretended  to  give 
herself  up  entirely  to  the  restoration  of  the  king's 
health,  and  announced  her  intention  of  affording 
Henry  an  opportunity  to  indulge  in  pastimes  likely 
to  restore  him  to  vigor  of  mind  and  body. 

On  this  pretext  the  king  and  queen  made  a  prog- 
ress into  Warwickshire,  hunting  and  hawking  by 
the  way,  till  they  reached  Coventry.  While  resid- 
ing in  that  ancient  city,  and  keeping  her  court  in 
the  Priory,  the  queen  wrote  letters,  in  affectionate 
terms,  to  York,  Salisbury,  and  Warwick,  earnestly 
entreating  them  to  visit  the  king  on  a  certain  day ; 
and  the  duke,  with  the  two  earls,  suspecting  no  evil, 
obeyed  the  summons,  and  rode  toward  Coventry. 
On  approaching  the  city,  however,  they  received 
warning  that  foul  play  was  intended,  and,  turning 
aside,  escaped  the  peril  that  awaited  them.  York, 
unattended  save  by  his  groom  and  page,  made  for 
Wigmore  ;  Salisbury  repaired  to  Middleham,  a  great 
castle  of  the  Nevilles  in  Yorkshire ;  and  Warwick 
took  shipping  for  Calais,  which  soon  became  his 
strong-hold  and  refuge. 

Totally  unaware  of  the  mischief  projected  by  his 


A  PEACE  CONFERENCE.  71 

spouse,  but  sincerely  anxious  for  a  reconciliation  of 
parties,  Henry  resolved  on  acting  as  peace-maker, 
and,  with  that  view,  summoned  a  great  council. 
The  king  was  all  eagerness  to  reconcile  York  and 
his  friends  with  the  Beauforts,  Percies,  and  Clif- 
fords, whose  kinsmen  had  been  slain  at  St.  Albans ; 
and  he  swore  upon  his  salvation  so  to  entertain  the 
duke  and  the  two  earls,  that  all  discontent  should 
be  removed.  London  was  fixed  upon  as  the  place 
of  meeting ;  and,  at  the  head  of  five  thousand  arm- 
ed men,  the  mayor  undertook  to  prevent  strife. 

Accompanied  by  a  number  of  friends  and  follow- 
ers, York  entered  the  capital,  and  repaired  to  Bay- 
nard's  castle  ;  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  arrived,  with  a 
feudal  following,  at  his  mansion  called  the  Harbor ; 
and  Warwick,  landing  from  Calais,  rode  into  the 
city,  attended  by  six  hundred  men,  with  his  badge, 
the  ragged  staff,  embroidered  on  each  of  their  red 
coats,  and  took  possession  of  his  residence  near  the 
Grey  Friars. 

At  the  same  time,  the  Lancastrian  nobles  mus- 
tered strong.  Henry  Beaufort,  Duke  of  Somerset ; 
Henry  Percy,  Earl  of  Northumberland ;  and  John, 
"the  black-faced"  Lord  Clifford,  came  riding  to- 
ward London,  in  feudal  array,  attended  by  hund- 
reds of  the  men  of  the  west,  of  Northumberland, 
and  of  the  Craven.  Each  of  the  three  had  lost  a 
father  in  the  first  battle  of  the  Roses ;  and,  albeit 


72  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

young  and  vigorous,  they  were  to  pour  out  their 
heart's  blood  in  the  struggle,  ere  a  few  years  passed 
over.  But  in  no  wise  apprehensive  did  they  seem, 
as  they  alighted  at  their  respective  lodgings  to  the 
west  of  Temple  Bar.  Thither,  at  the  same  time, 
came  Exeter,  Buckingham,  and  Thomas  Percy, 
Lord  Egremont,  a  younger  son  of  that  Earl  of 
Northumberland  slain  at  St.  Albans.  Devon  would 
have  been  in  London  also ;  but,  while  on  his  way, 
he  fell  sick,  and  died  in  the  Abbey  of  Abingdon. 

One  circumstance  connected  with  this  attempt  at 
pacification  was  particularly  noticed.  While  the 
Yorkists  lodged  in  the  city,  the  Beauforts,  Percies, 
and  Cliffords,  sojourned  on  the  west  of  Temple  Bar ; 
and  while  one  party  held  their  deliberations  in  the 
Black  Friars,  the  other  held  their  meetings  in  the 
Chapter  House  at  "Westminster.  The  wits  of  the 
period  had  their  joke  on  the  occasion,  and  said,  that 
as  the  Jews  disdained  the  company  of  the  Samari- 
tans, so  the  Lancastrian  lords  abhorred  the  idea  of 
familiarity  with  the  White  Rose  chiefs. 

The  farce  was  played  out.  The  king,  who,  during 
the  conferences,  resided  at  Berkhamstead  and  acted 
as  umpire,  in  due  time  gave  his  award.  The  York- 
ists appear  to  have  had  scanty  justice.  They  were 
heavily  mulcted,  for  the  benefit  of  their  living  foes, 
and  ordered  to  build  a  chapel  for  the  good  of  the 
souls  of  the  lords  slain  at  St.  Albans.  Every  body, 


"THE  DISSIMULATED  LOVE-DAY."  ~>3 

however,  appeared  satisfied,  and  agreed  to  a  religi- 
ous procession  to  St.  Paul's,  that  they  might  con- 
vince the  populace  how  real  was  the  concord  that 
existed.  The  day  of  the  Conception  was  appointed 
for  this  ceremony ;  and,  to  take  part  in  it,  the  king 
and  queen  came  from  Berkhamstead  to  London. 

The  procession  was  so  arranged  as  to  place  in  the 
position  of  dear  friends  those  whose  enmity  was  sup- 
posed to  be  the  bitterest.  The  king,  with  a  crown 
on  his  head,  and  wearing  royal  robes,  was  naturally 
the  principal  figure.  Before  him,  hand  in  hand, 
walked  Salisbury  and  Somerset,  Warwick  and  Ex- 
eter. Behind  him  came  York  leading  Margaret  of 
Anjou.  The  citizens  were,  perhaps,  convinced  that 
Yorkists  and  Lancastrians  were  the  best  of  friends. 
All  was  delusion,  however,  naught  was  truth. 
Though  their  hands  were  joined  their  hearts  were 
far  asunder,  and  the  blood  already  shed  cried  for 
vengeance.  Stern  grew  the  brows  of  Lancastrian 
lords,  pale  the  cheeks  of  Lancastrian  ladies,  at  the 
mention  of  St.  Albans.  The  Beauforts,  Percies,  and 
Cliffords,  still  panted  for  vengeance,  and  vowed  to 
have  an  eye  for  an  eye  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth.* 

*  A  serious  quarrel — destined  to  be  fought  out  eight 
years  later  on  Hexham  Field — occurred  about  this  date  be- 
tween the  chief  of  the  Beauforts  and  Warwick's  younger 
brother,  who,  in  1461,  became  Lord  Montagu.  "It  was  not 
long  after  that  dissension  and  unkindness  fell  between  the 


74  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

The  procession  to  St.  Paul's  took  place  in  spring, 
and  ere  the  summer  was  over  events  dissipated  the 
illusions  which  the  scene  created.  Warwick,  as  Cap- 
tain of  Calais,  interfered  with  some  ships  belonging 
to  the  Hans  Towns ;  and  of  this  the  Hanseatic 
League  complained  to  the  court  of  England,  as  an 
infraction  of  the  law  of  nations.  The  earl  was  asked 
for  explanations ;  and  to  render  them  more  clearly 
presented  himself  at  Westminster. 

The  opportunity  for  a  quarrel  was  too  favorable 
to  be  neglected.  One  day,  when  Warwick  was  at- 
tending the  council  at  Westminter,  a  yeoman  of 
his  retinue,  having  been  struck  by  one  of  the  royal 
household,  wounded  his  assailant.  The  king's  serv- 
ants assembling  at  the  news  watched  until  the  earl 
was  returning  from  the  council  to  his  barge,  and  set 
upon  him  with  desperate  intentions.  A  fray  en- 
sued, and  Warwick,  with  some  difficulty,  escaped  in 
a  wherry  to  London.  Unfortunately,  the  mischief 
did  not  end  here.  The  queen,  having  heard  of  the 
affair,  acted  with  characteristic  imprudence,  and  or- 

young  Duke  of  Somerset  and  Sir  John  Neville,  son  unto  the 
Earl  of  Salisbury,  being  then  both  lodged  within  the  city. 
Whereof  the  mayor  being  warned,  ordained  such  watch  and 
provision  that  if  they  had  any  thing  stirred  he  was  able  to 
have  subdued  both  parties,  and  to  have  put  them  in  ward  till 
he  had  known  the  king's  pleasure.  Whereof  the  friends  of 
both  parties  being  aware,  labored  such  means  that  they 
agreed  them  for  that  time." — Fabyari's  Chronicle. 


WARWICK'S  ESCAPE  FROM  ARREST.          75 

dered  Warwick  to  be  sent  to  the  Tower,  and  a  cry 
was  therefore  raised  that  "  The  Foreign  Woman," 
who  had  murdered  "The  Good  Duke  Humphrey," 
was  going  to  murder  "  The  Stout  Earl."  Warwick, 
however,  consulted  his  safety  by  making  for  York- 
shire, where  he  took  counsel  with  York  and  Salis- 
bury. After  this  conference  he  passed  over  to  Cal- 
ais, and  during  the  winter  employed  himself  in  em- 
bodying some  veteran  troops  who  had  served  under 
Bedford  and  Talbot  in  the  wars  of  France. 


CHAPTER 

THE   CITY   AND   THE   COURT. 

ONE  day,  in  the  year  145G,  a  citizen  of  London, 
passing  along  Cheapside,  happened  to  meet  an  Ital- 
ian carrying  a  dagger.  The  citizen  was  a  young 
merchant  who  had  lately  been  on  the  Continent, 
and  who  had,  in  some  of  the  Italian  states,  been 
prohibited  by  the  magistrates  from  wearing  a  weap- 
on, even  for  the  defense  of  his  life.  Naturally  in- 
dignant at  seeing  an  Italian  doing  in  the  capital  of 
England  what  an  Englishman  was  not  allowed  to 
do  in  the  cities  of  Italy,  the  merchant  ventured  upon 
stopping  the  foreigner  and  reminding  him  of  the 
laws  of  his  own  country. 

Not  having  any  relish  for  being  thus  challenged, 
the  Italian  answered  with  some  degree  of  insolence  ; 
and  the  Englishman,  stung  to  the  quick,  forcibly 
seized  the  dagger  of  the  foreigner,  "  and,"  according 
to  the  chroniclers  of  the  period,  "  with  the  same  a 
little  cut  his  crown  and  cracked  his  pate."  En- 
raged at  this  assault,  the  Italian  complained  of  the 
outrage  to  the  lord  mayor;  and  the  Englishman, 
having  been  summoned  to  the  court  at  Guildhall, 
was  committed  to  Newgate. 


ENGLAND  FOR  THE  ENGLISH.       77 

Between  the  London  merchants  of  that  day  and 
the  foreigners  carrying  on  business  in  London  no 
good-will  existed.  Free  trade  was  not  the  fashion 
of  the  age  ;  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  city,  hating 
the  Italians  for  interfering  with  their  commerce, 
were  ready  on  any  fitting  occasion  to  rise  to  the 
tune  of  "England  for  the  English."  No  sooner, 
therefore,  was  it  known  that  an  Englishman  had 
been  incarcerated  for  breaking  an  Italian's  head 
than  he  was  regarded  as  a  martyr  to  his  patriotism  ; 
and  the  Londoners,  assembling  in  crowds,  compel- 
led the  mayor  to  deliver  the  merchant  from  prison, 
and  took  the  opportunity  of  attacking  the  houses 
of  all  the  Italians  in  London.  The  mayor,  in  the 
utmost  alarm,  summoned  the  elder  and  graver  of  the 
citizens  to  his  assistance ;  and  these,  with  much  dif- 
ficulty, prevailed  on  the  crowd  to  disperse  to  their 
homes.  As  for  the  merchant,  not  seeing  any  securi- 
ty under  the  circumstances,  he  repaired  to  Westmin- 
ster, and  there  took  refuge  in  the  sanctuary. 

The  riot  in  London  created  considerable  sensa- 
tion ;  and,  unfortunately,  the  queen,  as  if  she  had 
not  already  business  enough  on  her  hands,  took 
upon  herself  to  interfere,  and  expressed  her  intention 
of  inflicting  signal  punishment  on  the  offenders. 
With  that  purpose  in  view,  she  instructed  two  of  her 
dukes,  Buckingham  and  Exeter,  to  proceed  to  the 
city  ;  and  these  noblemen,  with  the  mayor  and  two 
justices,  opened  a  commission  at  Guildhall. 


78  THE  WARS  OF  THE   ROSES. 

At  first  the  business  was  conducted  with  all  due 
form,  and  the  inquiry  was  ceremoniously  prosecuted. 
Suddenly,  however,  a  great  change  occurred  in  the 
city.  Bow  bell  was  rung,  and  at  its  sound  the 
streets  filled  with  armed  men,  who  appeared  bent 
on  mischief.  The  queen's  high-born  commissioners 
were,  doubtless,  as  much  taken  by  surprise  as  if  Jack 
Cade  had  come  to  life  again  ;  and,  probably,  not  un- 
mindful of  Lord  Say's  fate,  they  abandoned  the  in- 
quiry in  a  state  of  trepidation  hardly  consisting  with 
the  dignity  of  a  Stafford  and  a  Holland.  The  city, 
however,  was  nothing  the  worse  for  their  absence ; 
indeed,  the  lord  mayor,  having  thus  got  rid  of  his 
lordly  coadjutors,  called  some  discreet  citizens  to  his 
aid,  and  dealt  so  prudently  with  the  multitude,  that 
order  was  restored  and  justice  satisfied. 

The  part  enacted  by  the  queen,  in  regard  to  the 
quarrel  between  the  English  and  Italians,  destroyed 
the  last  particle  of  affection  which  the  inhabitants 
of  London  entertained  for  the  house  of  Lancaster ; 
and  Margaret,  for  many  reasons,  began  to  prefer 
Coventry  to  the  metropolis.  This,  however,  was  not 
the  only  result  of  her  interference.  In  the  eyes  of 
foreigners  it  elevated  the  riot  to  the  dignity  of  an 
insurrection,  the  French  mistaking  it  for  one  of 
those  revolutions  in  which  the  Parisians,  under 
the  auspices  of  Jean  de  Troyes  and  Jean  Caboche, 
were  in  the  habit  of  indulging  during  the  reign  of 
the  unfortunate  Charles. 


INVASION   BY  THE  FRENCH.  79 

The  French  were  excusable  in  their  delusion. 
With  an  insane  king  and  a  reckless  queen  in  both 
cases  the  parallel  was  somewhat  close.  But  the 
French  soon  discovered  their  mistake.  Having  fit- 
ted out  two  expeditions  to  avail  themselves  of  our 
domestic  disorders,  they  intrusted  one  to  Lord  de 
Pomyers,  and  the  other  to  Sir  Peter  de  Breze.  Pom- 
yers  landed  on  the  coast  of  Cornwall,  and  having 
burned  Towey,  sailed  back  to  France  without  doing 
serious  mischief.  Breze,  with  four  thousand  men, 
embarked  at  Honfleur,  made  a  descent  on  Sand- 
wich, and  proceeded  to  spoil  the  town,  which  had 
been  deserted  by  its  defenders  on  account  of  the 
plague  ;  but,  the  country  people  in  the  neighborhood 
arriving  in  great  numbers,  the  invaders  were  fain  to 
return  to  their  ships. 

Such  was  the  end  of  the  riot  in  London ;  and  from 
that  time  the  metropolitan  populace  adhered  to  the 
chiefs  of  the  White  Rose ;  and  to  that  badge  of 
hereditary  pride  and  personal  honor  they  clung  with 
fidelity  long  after  it  had  lost  its  bloom  in  the  atmos- 
phere of  a  corrupt  court,  and  been  dyed  red  on  scaf- 
fold and  battle-field  in  the  blood  of  the  noble  and 
the  brave. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A  YORKIST  VICTORY  AND  A  LANCASTRIAN  REVENGE. 

IN  the  summer  of  1459  Margaret  of  Anjou  car- 
ried the  Prince  of  Wales  on  a  progress  through 
Chester,  of  which  he  was  earl.  The  queen's  object 
being  to  enlist  the  sympathies  of  the  men  of  the 
north,  she  caused  her  son,  then  in  his  sixth  year,  to 
present  a  silver  swan,  which  had  been  assumed  as 
his  badge,  to  each  of  the  principal  adherents  of  the 
house  of  Lancaster.  Margaret  had  left  the  County 
Palatine,  and  was  resting  from  her  fatigues  at  Ec- 
cleshall,  in  Staffordshire,  when  she  received  intelli- 
gence that  the  Yorkists  were  in  motion;  that  the 
duke  was  arraying  the  retainers  of  Mortimer  beneath 
the  Plantagenet  banner ;  that  Warwick  was  on  his 
way  from  Calais  with  a  body  of  warriors  trained  to 
arms  by  Bedford  and  Talbot ;  and  that  Salisbury, 
at  the  head  of  five  thousand  merry  men  of  York- 
shire, was  moving  from  Middleham  Castle  to  join  his 
son  and  his  brother-in-law  at  Ludlow. 

Notwithstanding  the  rout  of  her  friends  at  St. 
Albans,  Margaret  was  not  daunted  at  the  prospect 
of  another  trial  of  strength.  Perhaps,  indeed,  she 
rather  rejoiced  that  the  Yorkist  chiefs  afforded  a  fair 


THE  BATTLE  OF  BLORE.  81 

opportunity  of  executing  her  vengeance  and  effect- 
ing their  ruin.  Her  measures,  Avith  that  purpose, 
were  taken  with  characteristic  promptitude.  She 
issued  orders  to  James  Touchet,  Lord  Audley,  to  in- 
tercept Salisbury's  march;  and  at  the  same  time 
summoned  Thomas,  Lord  Stanley,  to  join  the  Lan- 
castrian army  with  all  his  forces.  Stanley,  who  was 
son-in-law  of  Salisbury,  answered  that  he  would 
come  in  all  haste,  but  failed  to  keep  his  promise. 
Audley,  however,  exhibited  more  devotion  to  the 
Red  Rose.  On  receiving  the  queen's  commands,  he 
undertook  to  bring  her  one  Yorkist  chief  dead  or 
alive  ;  and  hastily  assembling  a  force  of  ten  thousand 
men  in  Cheshire  and  Shropshire,  boldly  threw  him- 
self between  the  earl  and  the  duke.  On  the  even- 
ing of  Saturday,  the  22d  of  September,  Audley  came 
face  to  face  with  Salisbury  at  Bloreheath,  within  a 
short  distance  of  Drayton,  anciently  the  seat  of  those 
Bassets  who  fought  with  so  much  distinction  in  the 
wars  of  the  first  Edward. 

The  position  of  the  Yorkists  was  the  reverse  of 
pleasant.  The  Lancastrian  army  was  greatly  supe- 
rior in  number,  and  Audley  had  the  advantage  of 
being  posted  by  the  side  of  a  stream,  of  which  the 
banks  were  particularly  steep.  But  Salisbury  was 
not  to  be  baffled.  Seeing  that  there  was  little 
prospect  of  success  in  the  event  of  his  crossing  to 
attack,  the  earl  resolved  on  a  military  stratagem, 
F 


82  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

and  gave  orders  that  his  army  should  encamp  for  the 
night. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  Sunday — it  was  St. 
Tecla's  Day — Salisbury  set  his  men  in  motion ;  and, 
having  caused  his  archers  to  send  a  flight  of  shafts 
across  the  river  toward  Audley's  camp,  feigned  to 
retreat.  Audley  soon  showed  that  he  was  no  match 
for  such  an  enemy.  Completely  deceived,  the  Lan- 
castrian lord  roused  his  troops  to  action,  caused  his 
trumpets  to  sound,  and  gave  orders  for  his  army  pass- 
ing the  river.  His  orders  were  promptly  obeyed. 
The  men  of  Cheshire,  who  composed  the  van,  dash- 
ed into  the  water,  and  plunged  through  the  stream  ; 
but  scarcely  had  they  commenced  ascending  the  op- 
posite banks  when  Salisbury  turned,  and  attacked 
them  with  that  degree  of  courage  against  which  su- 
periority of  numbers  is  vain.  The  battle  was,  nev- 
ertheless, maintained  for  hours,  and  proved  most 
sanguinary.  The  loss  of  the  Yorkists  was  indeed 
trifling,*  but  more  than  two  thousand  of  the  Bed 

*  ' '  But  the  carl's  two  sons — the  one  called  Sir  John  Nev- 
ille, and  the  other  Sir  Thomas — were  sore  wounded;  which, 
slowly  journeying  into  the  north  country,  thinking  there  to 
repose  themselves,  were  in  their  journey  apprehended  by  the 
queen's  friends,  and  conveyed  to  Chester.  But  their  keep- 
ers delivered  them  shortly,  or  else  the  Marchmen  had  de- 
stroyed the  jails.  Such  favor  had  the  commons  of  Wales  to 
the  Duke  of  York's  band  and  his  affinity,  that  they  could  suf- 


THE  CAMP  AT  LUDLOW.  83 

Rose  warriors  perished  in  the  encounter.  Audley 
himself  was  slain,  and  with  him  some  of  the  fore- 
most gentlemen  of  Cheshire  and  Lancashire,  among 
whom  were  the  heads  of  the  families  of  Venables, 
Molyneux,  Legh,  and  Egerton.  The  queen,  who 
witnessed  the  defeat  of  her  adherents  from  the  tower 
of  a  neighboring  church,  fled  back  to  digest  her  mor- 
tification at  Eccleshall. 

The  Earl  of  Salisbury  soon  found  that  his  success 
was  calculated  to  convert  neutrals  into  allies.  Lord 
Stanley,  on  receiving  the  queen's  message,  had  gath- 
ered a  force  of  two  thousand  men ;  but,  being  re- 
luctant to  commit  himself  on  either  side,  he  con- 
trived, on  the  day  of  battle,  to  be  six  miles  from  the 
scene  of  action.  On  hearing  of  the  result,  how- 
ever, he  sent  a  congratulatory  letter  to  his  father- 
in-law;  and  Salisbury,  showing  the  epistle  to  Sir 
John  Harrington,  and  others  of  his  knights,  said, 
jocosely,  "  Sirs,  be  merry,  for  we  have  yet  more 
friends." 

The  contest  between  York  and  Lancaster  now  as- 
sumed a  new  aspect.  Salisbury,  rejoicing  in  a  vic- 
tory so  complete  as  that  of  Bloreheath,  formed  a 
junction  with  York  at  Ludlow ;  and  the  duke,  per- 
ceiving that  moderation  had  been  of  so  little  avail, 

fer  no  wrong  to  be  done,  nor  evil  word  to  be  spoken  of  him 
or  of  his  friends." — Hall's  Union  of  the  Families  of  Lancas- 
ter and  York. 


84  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

and  believing  that  his  life  would  be  in  danger  so  long 
as  Margaret  of  Anjou  ruled  England,  resolved  hence- 
forth upon  pursuing  a  bolder  course.  He  could  not 
help  remembering  that  he  was  turned  of  forty,  an 
age  at  which,  as  the  poet  tells  us,  there  is  no  dally- 
ing with  life  ;  and  he  began  to  consider  that  the  time 
had  arrived  to  claim  the  crown  which  was  his  by 
hereditary  right. 

Having  resolved  no  longer,  by  timidity  in  politics, 
to  play  the  game  of  his  enemies,  York  set  up  his 
standard  and  summoned  his  friends  to  Ludlow. 
Fighting  men  came  from  various  parts  of  England, 
and  assembled  cheerily  and  in  good  order  at  the  ren- 
dezvous ;  while,  to  take  part  in  the  civil  war,  War- 
wick brought  from  Calais  those  veterans  who,  in 
other  days,  had  signalized  their  valor  against  foreign 
foes.  The  projects  of  the  Yorkists  seemed  to  flour- 
ish. Salisbury's  experience,  knowledge,  and  mili- 
tary skill  were  doubtless  of  great  service  to  his 
friends ;  and  having  thrown  up  intrenchmeuts,  and 
disposed  in  battery  a  number  of  bombards  and  can- 
non, they  confidently  awaited  the  enemy. 

Meanwhile,  the  Lancastrians  were  by  no  means  in 
despair.  The  king,  having,  with  the  aid  of  the  young 
Dukes  of  Somerset  and  Exeter,  drawn  together  a 
mighty  army  at  Worcester,  sent  the  Bishop  of  Salis- 
bury to  promise  the  Yorkists  a  general  pardon  if 
they  would  lay  down  their  arms.  The  Yorkists, 


ANDREW  TROLLOPE'S  TREACHERY.    85 

however,  had  learned  by  severe  experience  what  the 
king's  promises  were  worth,  and  received  the  bishop 
like  men  who  were  no  longer  to  be  deluded.  "  So 
long,"  said  they,  ';  as  the  queen  has  supreme  power, 
we  have  no  faith  in  the  king's  pardon ;  but,"  they 
added,  "  could  we  have  assurance  of  safety,  we  should 
express  our  loyalty,  and  humbly  render  ourselves  at 
the  king's  service." 

The  king,  having  received  the  answer  of  the  in- 
surgent chiefs,  advanced  on  the  13th  of  October  to 
the  Yorkist  camp,  and  made  proclamation,  that  who- 
ever abandoned  the  duke  should  have  the  royal  par- 
don. Though  this  appeared  to  be  without  effect, 
the  king's  army  did  not  commence  the  attack.  In- 
deed, the  Yorkist  ranks  were  most  imposing,  and 
the  duke's  guns  wrought  considerable  havoc  in  the 
Lancastrian  lines.  Observing  the  formidable  atti- 
tude of  his  foes,  the  king  resolved  to  delay  the  as- 
sault until  the  morrow ;  and,  ere  the  sun  again  shone, 
an  unexpected  incident  had  changed  the  face  of  mat- 
ters, and  thrown  the  Yorkists  into  utter  confusion. 

Among  those  who  heard  the  king's  proclamation 
was  Andrew  Trollope,  captain  of  the  veterans  whom 
Warwick  had  brought  from  Calais.  This  mighty 
man-at-arms  had  served  long  in  the  French  wars, 
and  cared  not  to  draw  his  sword  against  the  son  of 
the  Conqueror  of  Agincourt.  After  listening  to  the 
king's  offers  of  pardon,  and  considering  the  conse- 


86  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

quences  of  refusing  them,  Trollope  resolved  upon  de- 
serting ;  and,  at  dead  of  night,  he  quietly  carried  off 
the  Calais  troops,  and  making  for  the  royal  camp, 
revealed  the  whole  of  York's  plans. 

When  morning  dawned,  and  Trollope's  treachery 
was  discovered,  the  adherents  of  the  "White  Rose 
were  in  dismay  and  consternation.  Every  man  be- 
came suspicious  of  his  neighbor ;  and  the  duke  was 
driven  to  the  conclusion  that  he  must  submit  to  cir- 
cumstances. No  prospect  of  safety  appearing  but 
in  flight,  York,  with  his  second  son,  the  ill-fated  Earl 
of  Rutland,  departed  into  Wales,  and  thence  went  to 
Ireland;  while  Salisbury  and  Warwick,  with  the 
duke's  eldest  son,  Edward,  escaped  to  Devonshire, 
bought  a  ship  at  Exinouth,  sailed  to  Guernsey,  and 
then  passed  over  to  Calais. 

The  king,  on  finding  that  his  enemies  had  fled, 
became  very  bold  ;  and  having  spoiled  the  town  and 
castle  of  Ludlow,  and  taken  the  Duchess  of  York 
prisoner,  he  called  a  Parliament.  As  measures  were 
to  be  taken  to  extinguish  the  Yorkists,  no  temporal 
peer,  unless  known  as  a  stanch  adherent  of  the  Red 
Rose,  received  a  summons ;  and  Coventry  was  se- 
lected as  the  scene  of  revenge ;  for,  since  the  unfor- 
tunate result  of  the  Commission  at  Guildhall,  the 
queen  looked  upon  London  as  no  place  for  the  exe- 
cution of  those  projects  on  which  she  had  set  her 
heart.  Away  from  the  metropolis,  however,  Mar- 


DLOREHEATH  AVENGED.  87 

garet  found  herself  in  a  position  to  do  as  she  pleased ; 
and  at  Coventry  Bloreheath  was  fearfully  avenged. 
With  little  regard  to  law,  and  still  less  regard  to 
prudence,  the  most  violent  courses  were  pursued: 
York,  Salisbury,  Wai-wick,  and  their  friends,  were 
declared  traitors ;  and  their  estates,  being  confiscated, 
were  bestowed  on  the  queen's  favorites.  The  chiefs 
of  the  White  Rose  appeared  utterly  ruined ;  and 
England  was  once  more  at  the  feet  of  "  The  Foreign 
Woman." 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    BATTLE   OF   NORTHAMPTON. 

IN  the  month  of  June,  1460,  while  the  Duke  of 
York  was  in  Ireland,  while  Margaret  of  Anjou  was 
with  her  feeble  husband  at  Coventry,  and  while 
Henry  Holland,  Duke  of  Exeter,  York's  son-in-law, 
was,  as  lord  high  admiral,  guarding  the  Channel 
with  a  strong  fleet,  Richard  Neville,  Earl  of  War- 
wick, sailed  from  Calais  for  the  shores  of  England. 
It  was  in  vain  that  Exeter  endeavored  to  do  his 
duty  as  admiral ;  for  on  the  sea  as  on  the  land,  "  The 
Stout  Earl"  was  a  favorite  hero,  and  the  sailors  re- 
fused to  haul  an  anchor  or  hoist  a  sail  to  prevent 
his  landing.  At  Sandwich  he  safely  set  foot  on  En- 
glish ground,  and  prepared  to  strike  a  shattering 
blow  at  the  house  of  Lancaster. 

Warwick  was  accompanied  by  the  Earl  of  Salis- 
bury and  the  Earl  of  March ;  but  the  army  with 
which  he  came  to  change  the  dynasty  did  not  con- 
sist of  more  than  fifteen  hundred  men.  The  earl, 
however,  was  not  dismayed  at  the  weakness  of  his 
force.  Indeed,  his  own  great  name  was  a  tower  of 
strength  ;  and  when,  on  landing,  ho  proclaimed  that 
his  motive  for  taking  up  arms  was  to  deliver  his 


LANDING  OF  THE  YORKISTS.  89 

countrymen  from  oppression,  and  to  maintain  the 
ancient  laws  and  liberties  of  England,  he  knew  that 
the  people  would  rally  around  his  banner.  Ere  this, 
the  White  Rose,  in  addition  to  being  the  emblem  of 
hereditary  right,  had  become  identified  with  the 
cause  of  civil  and  religious  freedom. 

The  earl's  confidence  in  the  people  of  England  was 
not  misplaced.  As  he  marched  toward  London,  the 
fighting  men  of  Kent  and  of  all  the  south  flocked  to 
his  standard,  and  on  reaching  Blackheath  he  was  at 
the  head  of  thirty  thousand  men.  As  the  patrician 
hero  entered  the  capital  he  was  hailed  with  enthu- 
siasm, and  cheered  with  the  hope  of  crowning  his 
enterprise  with  success. 

The  king  and  queen  were  still  at  Coventry  when 
informed  of  Warwick's  landing,  and  Margaret  lost 
no  time  in  taking  measures  to  resist  the  Yorkist  in- 
vasion. Money  was  borrowed  from  tho  Lancastrian 
clergy  and  nobles,  and  troops,  under  Percies,  Staf- 
fords,  Beauforts,  Talbots,  and  Beaumonts,  gathered 
rapidly  to  the  royal  standard.  The  respect  which, 
on  his  heroic  father's  account,  people  still  entertain- 
ed for  Henry,  and  the  fear  with  which  Margaret  in- 
spired them,  were  powerful  motives ;  and  a  great 
army  having  been  assembled,  the  Lancastrian  king 
and  his  haughty  spouse,  accompanied  by  Somerset 
and  Buckingham,  removed  to  Northampton,  and  took 
up  their  quarters  in  the  Friary. 


90  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Meanwhile,  leaving  his  father  in  London  to  defend 
the  city  and  besiege  the  Tower,  still  held  for  the 
king  by  Lord  Scales,  Warwick  marched  through  the 
midland  counties.  Having  taken  up  a  position  be- 
tween Towcester  and  Northampton,  he  sent  the  Bish- 
op of  Salisbury  to  the  king  with  pacific  overtures. 
The  bishop  returned  without  satisfaction,  and  War- 
wick, having  thrice  ineffectually  attempted  to  obtain 
an  audience  of  the  king,  gave  the  Lancastrians  no- 
tice to  prepare  for  battle. 

The  queen  was  not  less  willing  than  the  earl  to 
try  conclusions.  Believing  the  Lancastrians  equal 
to  an  encounter  with  the  army  of  Warwick,  she  ad- 
dressed her  partisans,  and  encouraged  them  with 
promises  of  honors  and  rewards.  Confident  in  their 
strength,  she  ordered  them  to  cross  the  Nene ;  and, 
Lord  Grey  dc  Ruthin  leading  the  van,  the  royal 
army  passed  through  the  river,  and  encamped  hard 
by  the  Abbey  of  Delapre  in  the  meadows  to  the 
south  of  the  town.  There  the  Lancastrians  encom- 
passed themselves  with  high  banks  and  deep  trenches; 
and,  having  fortified  their  position  with  piles,  and 
sharp  stakes,  and  artillery,  they  awaited  the  approach 
of  the  Yorkist  foe. 

Warwick  was  not  the  man  to  keep  his  enemies  long 
waiting  under  such  circumstances.  After  charging 
his  soldiers  to  strike  down  every  knight  and  noble, 
but  to  spare  the  common  men,  he  prepared  for  the 


THE  CONFLICT.  91 

encounter;  and,  ere  the  morning  of  the  9th  of  July 
— it  was  gloomy  and  wet — dawned  on  the  towers 
and  turrets  of  the  ancient  town  on  the  winding 
Nene,  his  army  was  in  motion.  Setting  their  faces 
northward,  the  Yorkists  passed  the  cross  erected  two 
centuries  earlier  in  memory  of  Eleanor  of  Castile, 
and  in  feudal  array  advanced  upon  the  foe — "  The 
Stout  Earl"  towering  in  front,  and  Edward  of  March, 
York's  youthful  heir,  following  with  his  father's 
banner.* 

At  news  of  Warwick's  approach,  the  Lancastrian 
chiefs  aroused  themselves  to  activity,  donned  their 
mail,  mounted  their  steeds,  set  their  men  in  battle 
order,  and  then  alighted  to  fight  on  foot.  The  king, 
in  his  tent,  awaited  the  issue  of  the  conflict ;  but 
Margaret  of  Anjou  repaired  to  an  elevated  situa- 
tion, and  thither  carried  her  son,  to  witness  the  fight. 
Her  hopes  were  doubtless  high,  for  gallant  looked 
the  army  that  was  to  do  battle  in  her  cause,  and 
well  provided  were  the  Lancastrians  with  the  artil- 
lery which  had,  in  the  previous  autumn,  rendered 
the  Yorkists  so  formidable  at  Ludlow. 

*  "At  that  period,  the  men-at-arms,  or  heavy  cavalry, 
went  to  battle  in  complete  armor ;  each  man  carried  a  lance, 
sword,  dagger,  and  occasionally  a  mace  or  battle-axe ;  his 
horse,  also,  was,  to  a  certain  extent,  in  armor.  A  consider- 
able part  of  an  English  army  consisted  of  archers,  armed 
with  long  bows  and  arrows ;  and  another  part  consisted  of 
men  armed  with  bills,  pikes,  pole-axes,  glaives,  and  morris- 
pikes." — Brooke's  Visits  to  Fields  of  Battle. 


92  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

By  seven  o'clock  the  Yorkists  assailed  the  in- 
trenched camp  at  Delapre,  and  the  war-cries  of  the 
Lancastrian  leaders  answered  the  shouts  of  Warwick 
and  March.  At  first  the  contest  was  vigorously 
maintained ;  but,  unfortunately  for  the  queen's  hopes, 
the  rain  had  rendered  the  artillery  incapable  of  do- 
ing the  service  that  had  been  anticipated.  In  spite 
of  this  disheartening  circumstance,  the  warriors  of 
the  Red  Rose  bravely  met  their  antagonists,  and  both 
Yorkists  and  Lancastrians  fought  desperately  and 
well.  But,  in  the  heat  of  action,  Lord  Grey  de 
Ruthin,  betraying  his  trust,  deserted  to  the  enemy. 
Consternation  thereupon  fell  upon  the  king's  army, 
and  the  Yorkists  having,  with  the  aid  of  Lord  Grey's 
soldiers,  got  within  the  intrenchments.  wrought  fear- 
ful havoc.  The  conflict  was,  nevertheless,  main- 
tained with  obstinacy  till  nine  o'clock  ;  but  after 
two  hours  of  hard  fighting  the  king's  men  were  seen 
flying  in  all  directions,  and  many,  while  attempting 
to  cross  the  Nene,  were  drowned  in  its  waters. 

In  consequence  of  Warwick's  order  to  spare  the 
commons,  the  slaughter  fell  chiefly  on  the  knights 
and  nobles.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham,  the  Earl 
of  Shrewsbury,  Thomas  Percy,  Lord  Egremont,  and 
John,  Viscount  Beaumont,  were  among  the  slain. 
Somerset  narrowly  escaped,  and  fled  after  the  queen 
in  the  direction  of  North  Wales. 

When  intelligence  of  Warwick's  victory  reached 


DEFEAT  OF  LANCASTRIANS.  93 

London,  the  populace  broke  loose  from  all  restraint. 
Lord  Scales,  who,  while  keeping  the  Tower,  had  in- 
curred their  hatred,  disguised  himself  and  endeavor- 
ed to  escape.  The  watermen,  however,  recognized 
him,  and,  notwithstanding  his  threescore  years,  cut 
off  his  head  and  cast  the  body  carelessly  on  the  sands. 
Thomas  Thorpe,  one  of  the  barons  of  the  Exchequer, 
met  a  similar  fate.  While  attempting  to  fly,  he 
was  captured  and  committed  to  the  Tower ;  but  aft- 
erward he  was  taken  possession  of  by  the  mob,  and 
executed  at  Highgate.  With  such  scenes  enacting 
before  their  eyes,  the  citizens  recognized  the  neces- 
sity of  a  settled  government ;  and  the  adherents  of 
the  White  Rose  intimated  to  their  chief  the  expe- 
diency of  his  immediate  return  from  Ireland. 

King  Henry,  after  the  defeat  of  his  adherents  at 
Northampton,  was  found  in  his  tent,  lamenting  the 
slaughter.  As  at  St.  Albans,  he  was  treated  by  the 
victors  with  respectful  compassion,  and  by  them  con- 
ducted, with  the  utmost  deference,  to  London. 


CHAPTER  XL 

YORK'S  CLAIM  TO  THE  CROWN. 

ON  the  7th  of  October,  1460,  a  Parliament,  sum- 
moned in  King  Henry's  name,  met  at  Westminster, 
in  the  Painted  Chamber,  for  centuries  regarded  with 
veneration  as  the  place  where  St.  Edward  had 
breathed  his  last,  and  with  admiration  on  account 
of  the  pictures  representing  incidents  of  the  Con- 
fessor's life  and  canonization,  executed  by  command 
of  the  third  Henry  to  adorn  the  walls. 

On  this  occasion  the  king  sat  in  the  chair  of  state  ; 
and  Warwick's  brother,  George  Neville,  Bishop  of 
Exeter,  who,  though  not  yet  thirty,  had  been  ap- 
pointed chancellor,  opened  the  proceedings  with  a 
notable  declamation,  taking  for  his  text,  Congregate 
populum,  sanctificate  ecclesiam.  The  Houses  then  en- 
tered upon  business,  repealed  all  the  acts  passed  at 
Coventry,  and  declared  that  the  Parliament  there 
held  had  not  been  duly  elected. 

While  this  was  going  on,  the  Duke  of  York,  who 
had  landed  at  Chester,  came  toward  London ;  and 
three  days  after  the  meeting  of  Parliament,  accom- 
panied by  a  splendid  retinue,  all  armed  and  mount- 
ed, he  entered  the  capital  with  banners  flying,  trum- 


THE  DUKE  AND  THE  PEERS.       95 

pets  sounding,  and  a  naked  sword  carried  before  him. 
Riding  along  with  princely  dignity,  the  duke  dis- 
mounted at  Westminster,  and  proceeded  to  the  House 
of  Lords.  Walking  straight  to  the  throne,  he  laid 
his  hand  on  the  cloth  of  gold,  and,  pausing,  looked 
round,  as  if  to  read  the  sentiments  of  the  peers  in 
the  faces.  At  that  moment  the  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury, who  had  been  with  Henry,  entered  the 
house,  and  made  the  usual  reverence  to  the  duke. 

"  Will  not  my  Lord  of  York  go  and  pay  his  re- 
spects to  the  king?"  asked  the  archbishop. 

"I  know  no  one,"  answered  York,  coloring,  "to 
whom  /  owe  that  title." 

The  archbishop,  on  hearing  the  duke's  answer, 
went  back  to  the  king ;  and  York,  following,  took 
possession  of  the  palace.  Then,  returning  to  the 
house,  and  standing  on  the  steps  of  the  throne,  he 
claimed  the  crown  of  England  as  heir  of  Lionel  of 
Clarence.  When  the  duke  concluded  his  speech,  the 
peers  sat  motionless  as  graven  images  ;  and  perceiv- 
ing that  not  a  word  was  uttered  nor  a  whisper  ex- 
changed, York  sharply  asked  them  to  deliberate. 
"  Think  of  this  matter,  my  lords,"  said  he ;  "  I  have 
taken  my  course,  take  yours." 

The  duke  left  the  house  in  some  chagrin,  and 
the  peers  took  his  request  into  consideration.  Aft- 
er discussing  the  claim  to  the  crown  as  calmly 
as  if  it  had  been  an  ordinary  peerage  case,  they 


96  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

resolved  that  the  question  should  be  argued  by  coun- 
sel at  the  bar. 

Most  of  the  lords  were  under  essential  obligations 
to  the  house  of  Lancaster,  and  therefore  in  no  haste 
to  take  York's  claim  into  consideration.  When  a 
week  elapsed,  therefore,  the  duke  deemed  it  politic 
to  send  a  formal  demand  of  the  crown,  and  to  re- 
quest an  immediate  answer.  The  peers,  somewhat 
startled,  replied  that  they  refused  justice  to  no  man. 
but  in  this  case  could  decide  nothing  without  the 
advice  and  consent  of  the  king.  Henry  was  con- 
sulted ;  and  he  recommended  that  the  judges  should 
be  summoned  to  give  their  opinion.  These  legal 
functionaries,  however,  declined  to  meddle  with  a 
matter  so  dangerous,  and  the  peers  were  under  the 
necessity  of  proceeding  without  the  aid  of  their  learn- 
ing and  experience.  The  duke  was  then  heard  by 
his  counsel ;  and,  an  order  having  been  made  "  that 
every  man  might  freely  and  indifferently  speak  his 
mind  without  fear  of  impeachment,"  the  question 
was  debated  several  days. 

All  this  time  York  lodged  in  the  palace  of  West- 
minster, where  Henry  then  was,  but  refused  to  see 
his  royal  kinsman,  or  to  hold  any  communication 
with  him  till  the  peers  had  decided  on  the  justice  of 
his  claim ;  he  knew  no  one,  he  said,  to  whom  he 
owed  the  title  of  king. 

At  length  the  peers  arrived  at  a  decision;  and 


A  COMPROMISE.  97 

the  youthful  chancellor,  by  order  of  the  house,  pro- 
nounced judgment.  It  was  to  the  effect  that  Rich- 
ard Plantagenet  had  made  out  his  claim  ;  but  that, 
in  consideration  of  Henry  having  from  infancy  worn 
the  crown,  he  should  be  allowed  to  continue  king 
for  life,  and  that  York,  who  meanwhile  was  to  hold 
the  reins  of  government,  should  ascend  the  throne 
after  his  royal  kinsman's  death.  This  compromise 
of  a  delicate  dispute  seemed  to  please  both  parties. 
On  the  vigil  of  the  feast  of  All  Saints,  York  and  two 
of  his  sons  appeared  in  Parliament,  and  took  an  oath 
to  abide  by  the  decision  ;  on  All  Saints  Day  the 
heir  of  John  of  Gaunt  and  the  heir  of  Lionel  of 
Clarence  rode  together  to  St.  Paul's  in  token  of 
friendship  ;  and  on  the  Saturday  following  the  duke 
was,  by  sound  of  trumpet,  proclaimed  Protector  of 
the  realm  and  heir  to  the  crown. 

The  king  appeared  quite  unconcerned  at  the  turn 
which  affairs  had  taken,  and  York  had  no  appre- 
hensions of  a  man  who  was  never  happy  but  when 
giving  himself  up  to  devotional  exercises.  The 
duke,  however,  was  not  indifferent  to  the  enmity 
of  Margaret  of  Anjou,  and  he  felt  anxious  to  se- 
cure himself  against  her  hostility.  He  therefore 
sent  a  summons  to  bring  her  son  without  delay  to 
Westminster,  intending  in  case  of  disobedience  to 
banish  her  from  among  a  people  on  whom  she  had 
brought  so  many  misfortunes.  The  Protector,  it 
G 


OS  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

soon  appeared,  had  under-estimated  the  resources, 
the  energy,  the  terrible  enthusiasm  of  the  daughter 
of  King  Rene.  He  sent  his  messengers,  as  it  were, 
to  hunt  a  wild-cat,  and  he  found,  to  his  cost,  that 
they  had  roused  a  fierce  tigress. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
THE  QUEEN'S  FLIGHT  AND  RETURN. 

WHEN  Margaret  of  Anjou,  from  the  rising  ground 
at  Northampton,  saw  her  knights  and  nobles  bite 
the  dust,  and  descried  the  banner  of  Richard  Plan- 
tagenet  borne  in  triumph  through  the  broken  ranks 
of  the  Lancastrian  army,  she  mounted  in  haste  and 
fled  with  her  son  toward  the  bishopric  of  Durham. 
Changing  her  mind,  however,  the  unfortunate  queen 
drew  her  rein,  turned  aside,  and  made  for  North 
Wales. 

The  way  was  beset  with  danger.  As  Margaret 
was  passing  through  Lancashire  she  was  robbed  of 
her  jewels ;  and  while,  with  bitter  feelings,  pursuing 
her  flight  through  Cheshire  she  was  attacked  by  a 
retainer  of  Sir  William  Stanley.  Having  escaped 
these  perils,  and  been  joined  by  Somerset,  the  fair 
Anjouite  sought  refuge  in  Harleck  Castle,  which 
had  been  built  on  the  site  of  an  ancient  British 
fortress  by  the  first  Edward,  and  which  was  held 
for  that  mighty  monarch's  feeble  descendant  by  a 
Welsh  captain  who  rejoiced  in  the  name  of  Davydd 
ap  Jefan  ap  Einion. 

The  Castle  of  Harleck  stood  on  a  lofty  cliflf,  the 


100  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

base  of  which  was  then  washed  by  the  ocean,  though 
now  a  marshy  tract  of  ground  intervenes.  From 
the  sea,  with  such  a  rock  to  scale,  the  strong-hold 
was  well-nigh  impregnable ;  while  on  the  land  side 
it  was  defended  by  massive  walls,  by  a  large  fosse, 
and  by  round  towers  and  turrets,  which  covered  ev- 
ery approach.  Owen  Glendower  had,  during  four 
years,  maintained  the  place  against  the  fifth  Henry; 
and  the  sturdy  "  Davydd"  would  not  have  shrunk 
from  defending  it  against  a  Yorkist  army,  even  if  led 
by  Warwick  in  per.-oi. 

At  Harleck  .Margaret  passed  months,  brooding 
over  the  past,  uncertain  as  to  the  present,  and  anx- 
ious about  the  future.  At  times,  indeed,  she  must 
have  forgotten  her  misfortune?,  as,  from  the  battle- 
ments of  the  castle,  she  gaze:l  with  the  eye  of  a 
poetess  over  the  intervening  mountains  to  where  the 
peaks  of  Snowdon  seem  to  mingle  with  the  clouds. 
At  length  she,  was  startled  by  intelligence  of  the 
settlement  made  by  Parliament,  and  by  a  summons 
from  York,  as  Protector,  to  appear  at  "NVestinins'.ir 
with  her  son. 

Margaret  might  well  crimson  with  shame  and 
anger.  The  terms  on  which  the  dispute  between 
York  and  Lancaster  had  been  compromised  recalled 
all  the  injurious  rumors  as  to  the  oirth  of  her  son ; 
and  her  maternal  feelings  were  shocked  at  the  ex- 
clusion of  the  boy-prince  from  the  throne  he  had 


FROM  HARLECK  TO  DUMFRIES.  101 

I--  n  born  to  inherit.*  Submission  was,  under  these 
circumstances,  impossible  to  such  a  woman.  She 
was  not  yet  thirty,  decidedly  too  young  to  abandon 
hope  ;  and  she  was  conscious  of  having  already,  in 
seasons  of  danger,  exhibited  that  energy  which  is 
hope  in  action.  The  idea  of  yet  trampling  in  the 
dust  the  three  magnates  by  whom  she  had  been 
humbled,  took  possession  of  her  mind  ;  and,  unaided 
save  by  beauty,  eloquence,  and  those  accomplish- 
ments which,  fifteen  years  earlier,  had  made  her 
famous  at  the  courts  of  Europe,  she  started  for  the 
north  with  the  determination  of  regaining  the  crown 
which  she  had  already  found  so  thorny.  The  dis- 
tressed queen  embarked  on  the  Menai ;  and  her 
destination  was  Scotland. 

One  day  in  the  autumn  of  14GO,  James,  King  of 
Scots,  the  second  of  his  name,  while  attempting  to 
wrest  Roxburgh  Castle  from  the  English,  was  killed 
by  the  bursting  of  a  cannon,  and  succeeded  by  his 
son,  a  boy  in  his  seventh  year.  The  obsequies  of 

*  "One  of  the  greatest  obstacles  to  the  cause  of  the  Bed 
Rose,  was  the  popular  belief  that  the  young  prince  was  not 
Henry's  POII.  Had  that  belief  not  been  widely  spread  and 
firmly  maintained,  the  lords  who  arbitrated  between  Henry 
VI.  and  Richard,  Duke  of  York,  in  October,  1460,  could 
scarcely  have  come  to  the  resolution  to  set  aside  the  Prince 
<  f  AVales  altogether,  to  accord  Henry  the  crown  for  his  life, 
and  declare  the  Duke  of  York  his  heir." — Sir  E.  B.  LyttotCa 
Lnrt  of  the  Barons. 


102  THE  WARS  OF  THE  KOSES. 

the  deceased  monarch  were  scarcely  celebrated, 
when  intelligence  reached  the  Scottish  court  that 
Margaret  of  Anjou  had,  with  her  son,  arrived  at 
Dumfries ;  that  she  had  met  with  a  reception  befit- 
ting a  royal  personage ;  and  that  she  had  taken  up 
her  residence  in  the  College  of  Lincluden. 

Mary  of  Gueldres,  the  widowed  Queen  of  Scots, 
was  about  Margaret's  own  age.  Moreover,  Mary- 
was  a  princess  of  great  beauty,  of  masculine  tak-nt, 
and  of  the  blood  royal  of  France.  Surrounded  by 
the  iron  barons  of  a  rude  country,  her  position  was 
not  quite  so  pleasant  as  a  bed  of  roses ;  and  she 
could  hardly  help  sympathizing  with  the  desolate 
condition  of  her  distant  kinswoman.  Hastening 
with  her  son  to  Dumfries,  she  held  a  conference 
that  lasted  for  twelve  days. 

At  the  conference  of  Lincluden  every  thing  went 
smoothly.  Much  wine  was  consumed.  A  close 
friendship  was  formed  between  the  queens.  A 
marriage  was  projected  between  the  Prince  of 
Wales  and  a  princess  of  Scotland.  Margaret's 
spirit  rose  high ;  her  hopes  revived ;  and  encour- 
aged by  promises  of  aid,  she  resolved  on  no  less 
desperate  an  adventure  than  marching  to  London 
and  rescuing  her  husband  from  the  grasp  of  "  the 
Triumvirate." 

The  enterprise  decided  on,  no  time  was  lost.  An 
army  was  mustered  in  the  frontier  counties  with  a 


THE  NORTH  IN  ARMS.  103 

rapidity  which,  it  would  seem,  York  and  his  friends 
had  never  regarded  as  possible.  The  great  barons 
of  the  north,  however,  had  never  manifested  any 
tenderness  for  the  White  Rose ;  and  they  remem- 
bered with  indignation  that  hitherto  their  southern 
peers  had  carried  every  thing  before  them.  Eager 
to  vindicate  their  importance,  and  inspired  by  Mar- 
garet with  an  enthusiasm  almost  equal  to  her  own, 
the  Nevilles  of  Westmoreland,  the  Percies  of  North- 
umberland, and  the  Cliffords  of  Cumberland,  sum- 
moned their  fighting  men,  and  at  the  same  time  en- 
deavored, by  promises  of  plunder  south  of  the  Trent, 
to  allure  the  foraying  clans  to  their  standard. 

The  Borderers  boasted  that  their  property  was  in 
their  swords ;  and  they  were  seldom  slow  to  ride 
when  the  prospect  of  booty  was  presented  to  their 
imaginations.  They  went  to  church  as  seldom  as 
the  twenty-ninth  of  February  conies  into  the  calen- 
dar, and  never  happened  to  comprehend  that  there 
was  a  seventh  commandment.  When  on  forays, 
they  took  every  thing  that  was  not  too  heavy ;  and 
were  sometimes  far  from  satisfied  with  the  exception. 
Such  men  hailed  with  delight  the  prospect  of  plun- 
dering the  rich  South.  From  peels  and  castellated 
houses  they  came,  wearing  rusting  armor,  and  mount- 
ed on  lean  steeds,  but  steady  of  heart,  stout  of  hand, 
and  ready,  without  thought  of  fear,  to  charge  against 
knight  or  noble,  no  matter  how  proof  his  mail  or 


104  T11K   WARS   OF  THK   HUSKS 

high  his  renown  in  arms.  The  Borderers  cured  noth- 
ing for  York  or  Lancaster;  and  would  have  fought 
as  readily  for  the  White  Uose  as  the  Eed.  But  the 
spoil  south  of  the  Trent  was  u  noble  pri/e  ;  and  they 
gathered  to  the  queen's  standard  like  eagles  to  their 
prey. 

Finding  herself  at  the  head  of  eighteen  thousand 
men,  Margaret  of  Anjou  pressed  boldly  .southward. 
Even  the  season  was  such  as  would  have  daunted 
an  ordinary  woman.  When  operations  commenced, 
the  year  1100  was  about  to  expire;  the  grass  had 
withered  ;  the  streams  were  darkened  with  the  ruin-; 
of  December ;  the  leaves  had  fallen  ;  and  the  wind 
whistled  through  the  naked  branches  of  the  trees. 
^Margaret,  far  from  shrinking,  defied  all  hardships ; 
and  the  spectacle  of  a  queen,  so  young  and  beauti- 
ful, enduring  fatigue  and  daring  danger,  excited  the 
admiration  and  increased  loyalty  of  her  adherents. 
With  every  inclination  to  execute  a  signal  revenge, 
she  appeared  before  the  gates  of  York ;  and  march- 
ed from  that  city  toward  Sandal  Castle. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  ANJOUITE'S  VENGEANCE. 

As  the  autumn  of  1460  was  deepening  into  win- 
ter, a  rumor  reached  London  that  Margaret  of  Anjou 
was  raising  troops  on  the  borders  of  England.  The 
Duke  of  York,  though  not  seriously  alarmed,  was 
apprehensive  of  an  insurrection  in  the  north ;  and, 
marching  from  the  metropolis,  with  an  army  of  five 
thousand  men,  he,  on  Christmas-eve,  arrived  at  San- 
dal Castle,  which  stood  on  an  eminence  that  slopes 
down  toward  the  town  of  Wakefield.  Finding  that 
his  enemies  were  so  much  more  numerous  than  he 
had  anticipated,  the  Protector  saw  the  propriety  of 
remaining  in  his  strong-hold  till  re-enforced  by  his 
son,  who  was  recruiting  in  the  marches  of  Wales. 

The  fact,  however,  was  that  Margar  t  had  no  in- 
tention of  allowing  Duke  Kichard  to  profit  by  de- 
lay. Marching  to  Wakefield  Green,  she  challenged 
him  to  the  field,  and  ridiculed  the  idea  of  a  man  hav- 
ing aspired  to  a  crown  who  was  frightened  to  en- 
counter an  army  led  by  a  woman.  Well  aware, 
however,  that  the  battle  is  not  always  to  the  strong, 
Margaret  did  not  altogether  trust  in  numerical  su- 
poriority.  Determined  to  secure  victory,  she  formed 


106  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSI 

an  ambuscade  on  either  side :  one  under  Lord  Clif- 
ford, the  other  under  the  Earl  of  Wiltshire  ;  while 
to  Somerset  she  intrusted  the  command  of  her  main 
army. 

Meanwhile  York  called  a  council  of  war :  Salis- 
bury and  the  other  chiefs  of  the  White  Rose  who 
were  present  strongly  objected  to  hazarding  a  bat- 
tle ;  and  David  Hall,  an  old  and  experienced  war- 
rior, implored  the  duke  to  remain  within  the  walls 
of  Sandal.  But  York  considered  that  his  honor 
was  concerned  in  fighting ;  and,  addressing  himself 
to  Plall  in  familiar  phrase,  he  expressed  the  senti- 
ments by  which  he  was  animated. 

"Ah  !  Davy,  Davy,"  said  the  duke,  "hast  thou 
loved  me  so  long,  and  wouldst  now  have  me  dishon- 
ored ?  No  man  ever  saw  me  keep  fortress  when  I 
was  Regent  of  Normandy,  when  the  dauphin,  with 
his  puissance,  came  to  besiege  me ;  but,  like  a  man, 
and  not  like  a  bird  inclosed  in  a  cage,  I  issued,  and 
fought  with  mine  enemies  ;  to  their  loss  (I  thank 
GOD),  and  ever  to  my  honor.  If  I  have  not  kept 
myself  within  walls  for  fear  of  a  great  and  strong 
prince,  nor  hid  my  face  from  any  living  mortal, 
wouldst  thou  that  I  should  incarcerate  and  shut  my- 
self up  for  dread  of  a  scolding  woman,  whose  weap- 
ons are  her  tongue  and  nails?  All  men  would  cry 
wonder,  and  report  dishonor,  that  a  woman  made 
a  dastard  of  me,  whom  no  man  could  ever,  to  this 


WAKEFIELD  GREEN.  107 

day,  report  as  a  coward.  And,  surely,  my  mind 
is  rather  to  die  with  honor  than  to  live  with  shame. 
Their  numbers  do  not  appall  me.  Assuredly  I  will 
fight  with  them,  if  I  fight  alone.  Therefore,  ad- 
vance my  banners,  in  the  name  of  GOD  and  St. 
George!" 

Seeing  the  duke  determined  to  hazard  a  field, 
Salisbury  and  the  other  captains  arrayed  their  men 
for  battle ;  and  the  Yorkists,  sallying  from  the  cas- 
tle, descended  to  meet  the  foe  on  Wakefield  Green. 
The  duke  supposed  that  the  troops  under  Somerset 
were  all  with  whom  he  had  to  contend ;  and  the 
brave  warrior,  now  in  his  fiftieth  year,  advanced 
fearlessly  to  the  encounter.  Never  was  Plantagenet 
more  completely  deceived.  When  between  Sandal 
Castle  and  the  town  of  Wakefield,  York  was  sud- 
denly assailed,  by  Clifford  on  the  right  hand,  and 
by  Wiltshire  on  the  left ;  but,  though  environed  on 
every  side,  the  duke  did  not  yield  to  fate  without 
a  desperate  struggle.  On  both  sides,  the  soldiers 
fought  with  savage  fury;  and  the  Yorkists,  con- 
scious of  superior  discipline,  were  for  a  while  hope- 
ful of  victory.  At  a  critical  moment,  however, 
Margaret  brought  up  a  body  of  Borderers,  and  or- 
dered them  to  attack  the  Yorkists  in  the  rear ;  and 
the  effect  was  instantaneous.  The  northern  prickers 
laid  their  spears  in  rest,  spurred  their  lean  steeds, 
and  charged  the  warriors  of  the  White  Rose  with  a 


105  THE   WARS  OF  THE   KOSE>. 

vigor  that  defied  resistance.  The  victory  was  com- 
plete ;  and  of  live  thousand  men,  whom  York  had 
brought  into  the  field,  nearly  three  thousand  were 
stretched  on  the  slippery  sod.  The  bold  duke  was 
among  the  iirst  who  fell.  With  him  were  .-lain  his 
faithful  squire,  David  Hall,  and  many  lords  and  gen- 
tlemen of  the  south — among  whom  were  Sir  Thomas 
Neville,  Salisbury's  son ;  and  William  Bonville.  Lord 
Harrington,  the  husband  of  Katharine  Neville.  Salis- 
bury's daughter. 

An  incident  as  melancholy  as  any  connected  with 
the  Wars  of  the  Roses  row  occurred.  York's  son, 
Edmund,  Earl  of  Rutland,  being  in  the  castle  of 
Sandal,  had  gone  with  his  tutor,  Sir  Robert  Aspall, 
to  witness  the  fight.  They  dreaded  no  danger,  for 
Aspall  was  a  priest,  and  Rutland  was  a  fair  boy  of 
twelve,  and  innocent  as  a  lamb.  Seeing,  however, 
that  the  fortune  of  the  day  was  against  York,  the 
tutor  hurried  the  young  earl  from  the  field ;  but  as 
they  were  crossing  the  bridge,  Lord  Clifford  rode  up 
and  asked  the  boy's  name.  The  young  earl  fell  on 
his  knees,  and,  being  too  much  agitated  to  speak, 
implored  mercy  by  holding  up  his  hands. 

"Spare  him,"  said  the  tutor;  "lie  is  a  prince's 
son,  and  may  hereafter  do  you  good." 

••  York's  son  !"  exclaimed  Clifford,  eying  the  boy 
savagely.  >•  By  (Ion's  blood,  thy  father  slew  mine, 
and  so  will  I  thee  and  all  thy  kin." 


OLIFFOBB   STABBING   EUTIAN 


THE  MURDER  OF  RUTLAND.       Ill 

Deaf  to  the  tutor's  prayers  and  entreaties,  "  the 
black-faced  lord"  plunged  his  dagger  into  Rutland's 
heart ;  and  as  the  boy  expired  turned  to  the  priest, 
who  stood  mute  with  horror.  "  Go,"  said  the  mur- 
derer, "  bear  to  his  mother  and  his  brother  tidings 
of  what  you  have  heard  and  seen." 

After  thus  imbruing  his  hands  in  the  blood  of  an 
innocent  boy,  Clifford  went  in  search  of  the  corpse 
of  York.  Having  severed  the  duke's  head  from  the 
body,  and  put  a  crown  of  paper  on  the  brow  of  the 
dead  man,  and  fixed  the  head  on  a  pole,  he  present- 
ed the  ghastly  trophy  to  the  queen.  "  Madam," 
said  Clifford,  mockingly,  "  your  war  is  done  ;  here  I 
bring  your  king's  ransom."  Margaret  of  Anjou 
laughed ;  the  Lancastrian  lords  around  her  laughed 
in  chorus ;  there  was  much  jesting  on  the  occasion. 
"Many,"  says  Hall,  "were  glad  of  other  men's 
deaths,  not  knowing  that  their  own  was  near  at 
hand ;"  and  the  chronicler  might  have  added  that 
others  lived  through  many  dreary  years  to  rue  the 
jesting  of  that  day. 

One  of  the  hated  "Triumvirate"  was  now  no 
longer  alive  to  annoy  the  queen ;  and  she  was  yet 
to  have  another  victim.  Thomas  Neville,  the  son 
of  Salisbury,  was,  as  has  been  stated,  among  the 
slain ;  but  the  old  earl,  though  wounded,  had  left 
the  field.  He  was  too  dangerous  a  foe,  however,  to 
be  allowed  by  Clifford  to  escape.  Keenly  pursued, 


112  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

he  was  taken  during  the  night,  carried  to  Pontefract 
Castle,  and  there  executed.  Margaret  ordered  Salis- 
bury's head,  and  those  of  York  and  Rutland,  to  be 
set  over  the  gates  of  York,  as  a  warning  to  all  En- 
glishmen not  to  interfere  with  her  sovereign  will. 
"  Take  care,"  she  said  to  her  myrmidons.  "  to  leave 
room  for  the  head  of  my  Lord  of  Warwick,  for  he 
will  soon  come  to  keep  his  friends  company." 

Glowing  with  victory,  and  confident  that  her  en- 
terprise would  be  crowned  whh  triumph,  the  queen, 
taking  the  great  north  road,  pursued  her  march  to- 
ward the  capital.  Her  progress  was  for  a  time  un- 
opposed. On  approaching  St.  Albans.  however,  she 
learned  that  the  Earl  of  Warwick  and  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk  had  left  London  to  intercept  her;  that  they 
had  taken  possession  of  St.  Alban? ;  that  they  had 
filled  the  streets  of  the  town  with  archers,  and  post- 
ed their  army  on  the  hills  to  the  southeast. 

Margaret  was  not  dismayed  at  the  intelligence 
that  such  formidable  foes  were  in  her  way.  On  the 
contrary,  she  intimated  her  intention  of  passing 
through  St.  Albans  in  spite  of  their  opposition  ;  but 
did  not  deem  it  safe  to  trust  to  force  alone.  One 
of  the  ladies  of  her  court — so  runs  the  story — hap- 
pened to  have,  in  other  days,  interested  Warwick, 
and  had  not  quite  lost  her  influence  with  "The 
Stout  Earl."  Upon  this  dame — the  daughter  of 
Sir  Richard  Woodville  and  the  wife  of  John  Grey 


SECOND  BATTLE  OF  ST.  ALBANS.     113 

of  Groby — devolved  the  duty  of  playing  the  spy ; 
and  accordingly  she  repaired  to  Warwick  under  the 
pretense  of  asking  some  favor.  The  lady  was  cun- 
ning enough  to  act  her  part  with  discretion ;  and 
she.  doubtless,  brought  her  royal  mistress  intelli- 
gence which  gave  the  Lancastrians  courage  to  pro- 
ceed. 

It  was  the  morning  of  the  17th  of  February,  1461, 
when  the  van  of  the  queen's  army  advanced  to  force 
their  way  through  St.  Albans.  At  first  the  attempt 
was  unsuccessful ;  and  the  Lancastrians  were  met 
by  Warwick's  bowmen  with  a  flight  of  arrows  that 
caused  them  to  fall  back  from  the  market-place. 
Undaunted  by  this  repulse,  Margaret  persevered  ; 
and,  driving  the  archers  before  her,  she  brought  her 
soldiers  into  action  with  the  main  body  of  the  York- 
ists in  a  field  called  Bernard's  Heath. 

At  this  point  the  Lancastrians  found  their  task 
more  easy  than  they  could  have  anticipated.  For 
the  third  time  during  the  wars  of  the  Roses  occurred 
an  instance  of  desertion  in  the  face  of  the  enemy. 
At  Ludlow,  Andrew  Trollope  had  left  the  Yorkists  ; 
at  Northampton,  Lord  Grey  de  Ruthin  had  aban- 
doned the  Lancastrians ;  and  now  Lovelace,  who  at 
the  head  of  the  Kentish  men  led  Warwick's  van, 
deserted  the  great  earl  in  the  hour  of  need.  This 
circumstance  placed  the  victory  in  Margaret's  pow- 
er ;  and  a  dashing  charge  made  by  John  Grey  of 
H 


)U  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Groby,  at  the  head  of  the  Lancastrian  cavalry,  de- 
cided the  day  in  favor  of  the  Red  Rose.  A  running 
fight  wa*-,  nevertheless,  kept  up  over  the  undulating 
ground  between  St.  Albans  and  the  little  town  of 
Barnet ;  and,  a  last  stand  having  in  vain  been  made 
on  Barnet  Common,  Warwick  was  fain  to  retreat 
with  the  remnants  of  his  army. 

So  unexpected  had  been  the  queen's  victory,  and 
so  sudden  the  earl's  discomfiture,  that  the  captive 
king  was  left  in  solitude.  However,  Lord  Bonville, 
grandfather  of  the  warrior  who  fell  at  Wakefield, 
and  Sir  Thomas  Kyriel,  renowned  in  the  wars  of 
France,  went  to  the  royal  tent,  and  in  courteous  lan- 
guage expressed  their  regret  at  leaving  him  unat- 
tended. Henry,  entreating  them  to  remain,  gave 
them  a  distinct  promise  that  in  doing  so  they  should 
incur  no  danger  ;  and  after  accepting  the  royal  word 
as  a  pledge  for  their  personal  safety  they  consented, 
and  advised  the  king  to  intimate  to  the  victors  that 
he  would  gladly  join  them. 

A  message  was  accordingly  dispatched ;  and  sev- 
eral Lancastrian  lords  came  to  convey  Henry  of 
Windsor  to  the  presence  of  his  terrible  spouse.  The 
monk-king  found  Margaret  of  Anjou  and  the  Prince 
of  Wales  in  Lord  Clifford's  tent,  and,  having  express- 
ed his  gratification  at  their  meeting,  rewarded  the 
fidelity  of  his  adherents  by  knighting  thirty  of  them 
at  the  village  of  Colney.  Among  these  were  the 


THE  QUEEN'S  TENDER  MERCIES.  115 

Prince  of  Wales,  and  John  Grey  of  Groby,  the  war- 
rior who  had  broken  the  Yorkists'  ranks,  and  who, 
dying  of  his  wounds  a  few  days  later,  left  a  widow 
destined  to  bring  countless  miseries  on  the  royal  race 
whose  chiefs  had  so  long  ruled  England.  After  the 
ceremony  of  knighting  his  partisans,  Henry  repaired 
to  the  Abbey  of  St.  Albans  and  returned  thanks  for 
the  victory. 

While  Henry  was  occupied  with  devotional  exer- 
cises, the  queen  was  unfortunately  guilty  of  an  out- 
rage which,  even  if  she  had  been  in  other  respects 
faultless,  must  have  for  ever  associated  crime  with 
the  name  of  Margaret  of  Anjou.  The  Lord  Bon- 
ville  and  Sir  Thomas  Kyriel  had  consented,  as  we 
have  seen,  from  motives  of  compassion  and  romantic 
honor,  to  remain  with  Henry ;  and  the  king  had  on 
his  part  given  a  distinct  promise  that  no  evil  should 
befall  them.  But  by  the  queen  and  her  captains  no 
respect  was  paid  to  Henry ;  in  fact,  much  less  de- 
corum Avas  observed  toward  him  by  the  Lancastrians 
than  by  the  Yorkists.  At  all  events  Margaret,  ex- 
hibiting the  utmost  disregard  for  her  husband's  prom- 
ise, ordered  a  scaffold  to  be  erected  at  St.  Albans ; 
and,  in  defiance  of  all  faith  and  honor,  Lord  Bon- 
ville  and  Sir  Thomas  Kyriel  died  by  the  hands  of 
the  executioner. 

Meanwhile,  Margaret's  adherents  were  taking  a 
sure  way  to  render  her  cause  unpopular.  Ere 


116  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

marching  toward  London  the  men  of  the  north  had, 
as  the  price  of  their  allegiance  to  the  Red  Rose, 
covenanted  to  have  the  spoil  south  of  the  Trent ; 
and,  resolved  not  to  return  home  empty-handed,  they 
had  forayed  with  so  much  energy  as  to  spread  ter- 
ror wherever  they  went.  At  St.  Albans  their  rapac- 
ity knew  no  limits.  Not  only  did  they  plunder  the 
town  with  an  utter  disregard  to  the  rights  of  prop- 
erty, but  stripped  the  abbey  with  a  sacrilegious  hardi- 
hood which  rapidly  converted  the  head  of  that  great 
monastic  house  from  a  zealous  Lancastrian  to  a  vio- 
lent partisan  of  the  White  Rose. 

The  report  of  the  lawless  scenes  enacted  at  St. 
Albans  was  carried  to  London,  and  the  citizens,  who 
believed  that  the  queen  had  marked  them  as  objects 
of  her  vengeance,  were  impressed  with  a  sense  of 
danger,  and  rather  eager  to  win  back  her  favor. 
When,  therefore,  the  northern  army  lay  at  Barnet, 
and  Margaret  sent  to  demand  provisions,  the  mayor 
hastened  to  forward  some  cart-loads  of  "lenten  stuff" 
for  the  use  of  her  camp.  The  populace,  however, 
exhibited  a  courage  which  their  wealthier  neighbors 
did  not  possess,  and  rising  in  a  mass  at  Cripplegate 
stopped  the  carts,  and  forcibly  prevented  the  provi- 
sions leaving  the  city.  The  mayor,  in  alarm,  sent 
the  recorder  to  the  king's  council,  and  moreover  in- 
terested Lady  Scales  and  the  Duchess  of  Bedford  to 
intercede  with  the  queen,  and  represent  the  impolicy 


NEWS  FROM  MORTIMER'S  CROSS.  117 

of  exasperating  the  commons  at  such  a  crisis.  This 
led  to  another  scene  of  lawless  outrage.  Some  lords 
of  the  council,  with  four  hundred  horsemen,  headed 
by  Sir  Baldwin  Fulford,  were  sent  to  investigate 
matters,  and  attempted  to  enter  London  at  Cripple- 
gate.  Again,  however,  the  populace  fought  for  the 
White  Rose  ;  and  the  Lancastrian  horsemen,  being 
repulsed,  plundered  the  northern  suburbs  in  retalia- 
tion, and  left  matters  infinitely  worse  than  they  had 
previously  appeared. 

While  affairs  were  in  this  posture — Margaret's 
heart  beating  high  with  the  pride  of  victory — a 
price  set  on  the  head  of  Edward  of  York — the 
Lancastrian  lords  cherishing  the  prospect  of  venge- 
ance— "  the  wealth  of  London  looking  pale,  know- 
ing itself  in  danger  from  the  northern  army" — and 
the  citizens  apprehensive  of  being  given  over  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  Grahams  and  Armstrongs — from 
Mortimer's  Cross  there  arrived  news  of  battle  and 
bloodshed.  The  citizens  resumed  their  feelings  of 
security ;  the  wealth  of  London  appeared  once  more 
safe  from  huge  Borderers ;  and  Margaret  of  Anjou, 
forcibly  reminded  that  Edward  Plantagenet  and 
Richard  Neville  yet  lived  to  avenge  their  sires,  pre- 
pared to  return  to  "  Northumberland,  the  nursery 
of  her  strength." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  PLANTAGEXET  AND  THE  TUDORS. 

Ax  the  opening  of  the  year  1461,  a  princely  per- 
sonage, of  graceful  figure  and  distinguished  air,  rath- 
er more  than  twenty  years  of  age,  and  rather  more 
than  six  feet  in  height,  might  have  been  seen  mov- 
ing about  the  city  of  Gloucester,  whose  quiet  streets, 
with  old  projecting  houses,  and  whose  Gothic  cathe- 
dral, with  stained  oriel  window  and  lofty  tower, 
have  little  changed  in  aspect  since  that  period. 
The  youthful  stranger,  who  was  wonderfully  hand- 
some, had  golden  hair  flowing  straight  to  his  shoul- 
ders, a  long  oval  countenance,  a  rich  but  clear  and 
delicate  complexion,  broad  shoulders,  and  a  form 
almost  faultless.  Perhaps  his  eye  roved  with  too 
eager  admiration  after  the  fair  damsels  who  hap- 
pened to  cross  his  path ;  but  it  was  not  for  want  of 
more  serious  subjects  with  which  to  occupy  his  at- 
tention ;  for  the  tall,  handsome  youth  was  Edward 
Plantagenet,  Earl  of  March;  and  he  had  been  sent 
to  the  Welsh  Marches  to  recruit  soldiers  to  fight  the 
battles  of  the  White  Rose. 

Edward  of  York  was  a  native  of  Rouen.  In  that 
city  he  was  born  in  1441,  while  his  father  ruled 


EDWARD  OF  YORK.  119 

Normandy.  At  an  early  age,  however,  he  was 
brought  to  England,  to  be  educated  in  Ludlow  Cas- 
tle, under  the  auspices  of  Sir  Richard  Croft,  a  war- 
like Marchman,  who  had  married  a  widow  of  one 
of  the  Mortimers.  Under  the  auspices  of  Croft  and 
of  his  spouse,  who,  at  Ludlow,  was  known  as  "  The 
Lady  Governess,"  Edward  grew  up  a  handsome 
boy,  and  was,  from  the  place  of  his  birth,  called 
'•  The  Rose  of  Rouen,"  as  his  mother  had  been 
called  "The  Rose  of  Raby."  Early  plunged  into 
the  wars  of  the  Roses,  the  heir  of  York  never  ac- 
quired any  thing  like  learning,  but  became  a,  warrior 
of  experience  in  his  teens ;  and,  when  at  North- 
ampton, bearing  his  father's  banner,  he  exhibited  a 
spirit  which  inspired  the  partisans  of  York  with 
high  hopes. 

When  Edward  received  intelligence  that,  on 
Wakefield  Green,  his  father,  the  Duke  of  York, 
had  fallen  in  battle  against  Margaret  of  Anjou,  and 
that  his  brother,  the  Earl  of  Rutland,  had  been  bar- 
barously murdered  by  Lord  Clifford,  the  prince,  in 
the  spirit  of  that  age,  vowed  vengeance,  and  applied 
himself  with  energy  to  execute  his  vow.  Doubtless, 
other  objects  than  mere  revenge  presented  themselves 
to  his  imagination.  As  the  grandson  of  Anne  Mor- 
timer, he  was  the  legitimate  heir  of  England's  kings; 
and  he  had  not,  during  his  brief  career,  shown  any 
of  that  political  moderation  which  had  prevented 


120  THE   WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

his  father  plucking  the  crown  from  the  feeble 
Henry. 

The  recruiting  expedition  on  which  Edward  had 
gone,  accompanied  by  a  gallant  squire,  named  Wil- 
liam Hastings,  said  to  derive  his  descent,  through 
knights  and  nobles,  from  one  of  the  famous  sea 
kings,  was,  at  first,  much  less  successful  than  an- 
ticipated. The  Marchmen  seemed  disinclined  to 
stir  in  a  dynastic  quarrel  which  they  did  not  quite 
understand.  But  a  report  that  York  had  fallen  in 
battle,  and  that  Rutland  had  been  murdered  in  cold 
blood,  pruduced  a  sudden  change.  Men  who  before 
appeared  careless  about  taking  up  arms  rushed  to 
the  Yorkist  standard ;  and  the  retainers  of  the 
house  of  Mortimer,  on  hearing  that  their  valiant 
lord  was  slain,  appeared,  with  sad  hearts  and  stern 
brows,  demanding  to  be  led  against  the  murderers. 

Edward  was  already,  in  imagination,  a  conqueror. 
After  visiting  Shrewsbury,  and  other  towns  on  the 
Severn,  he  found  himself  at  the  head  of  twenty-three 
thousand  men,  ready  to  avenge  his  father's  fall,  and 
vindicate  his  own  rights.  At  the  head  of  this  force 
he  took  his  way  toward  London,  trusting  to  unite 
with  Warwick,  and,  at  one  blow,  crush  the  power 
of  the  fierce  Anjouite  ere  she  reached  the  capital. 
An  unexpected  circumstance  prevented  Edward's 
hope  from  being  so  speedily  realized. 

Among  the  Welsh  soldiers  who  fought  at  Agin- 


THE  TUDORS.  121 

court,  and  assisted  in  repelling  the  furious  charge  of 
the  Duke  of  Alencon,  was  Owen  Tudor,  the  son  of 
a  brewer  at  Beaumaris.  In  recognition  of  his  cour- 
age, Owen  was  named  a  squire  of  the  body  to  the 
hero  of  that  day,  and,  a  few  years  later,  became 
clerk  of  the  wardrobe  to  the  hero's  widow.  It  hap- 
pened that  Owen,  who  was  a  handsome  man,  pleased 
the  eye  of  Katherine  de  Valois ;  and  one  day,  when 
he  stumbled  over  her  dress,  while  dancing  for  the 
diversion  of  the  court,  she  excused  the  awkwardness 
with  a  readiness  which  first  gave  her  ladies  a  sus- 
picion that  she  was  not  altogether  insensible  to  his 
manly  beauty.  As  time  passed  on,  Katherine  united 
her  fate  with  his ;  and,  in  secret,  she  became  the 
mother  of  several  children. 

When  the  sacrifice  which  the  widowed  queen  had 
made  became  known,  shame  and  grief  carried  her  to 
the  grave ;  and  Humphrey  of  Gloucester,  then  Pro- 
tector, sent  Owen  to  the  Tower.  He  afterward  re- 
gained his  liberty,  but  without  being  acknowledged 
by  the  young  king  as  a  father-in-law.  Indeed,  of  a 
marriage  between  the  Welsh  soldier  and  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  Valois  and  widow  of  a  Plantagenet  no  evi- 
dence exists ;  but  when  Edmund  and  Jasper,  the 
sons  of  Katherine,  grew  up,  Henry  gave  to  one  the 
Earldom  of  Eichmond,  and  to  the  other  that  of 
Pembroke.  Richmond  died  about  the  time  when 
the  wars  of  the  Roses  commenced.  Pembroke  lived 


122  THE  WARS  OF  THE  [{OSES. 

to  enact  a  conspicuous  part  in  the  long  and  san- 
guinary struggle. 

When  the  Lancastrian  army,  flushed  with  victor}', 
was  advancing  from  Wakefield  toward  London,  Mar- 
garet of  Anjou,  hearing  that  Edward  of  York  was 
cm  the  Marches  of  Wales,  resolved  to  send  a  force 
under  Jasper  Tudor  to  intercept  him ;  and  Jasper, 
proud  of  tlie  commission,  undertook  to  bring  the 
young  Plantagenet,  dead  or  alive,  to  her  feet.  With 
this  view  he  persuaded  his  father  to  take  part  in  the 
adventure,  and  Owen  Tudor  once  more  drew  the 
sword  which,  in  years  gone  by,  he  had  wielded  for 
the  House  of  Lancaster. 

Edward  was  on  his  march  toward  London  when 
he  heard  that  Jasper  and  other  Welshmen  were  on 
his  track.  The  prince  was  startled ;  but  the  idea 
of  an  heir  of  the  blood  and  name  of  the  great  Ed- 
wards flying  before  Owen  Tudor  and  his  son  was 
not  pleasant ;  and,  moreover,  it  was  impolitic  to 
place  himself  between  two  Lancastrian  armies.  Con- 
sidering these  circumstances,  Edward  turned  upon 
his  pursuers,  and  met  them  at  Mortimer's  Cross,  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Hereford. 

It  was  the  morning  of  the  2d  of  February  — 
Candlemas  Day  —  and  Edward  was  arraying  his 
men  for  the  encounter,  when  he  perceived  that  the 
"orb  of  day"  appeared  like  three  suns,  which  all 
joined  together  as  he  looked.  In  those  days  the 


MORTIMER'S  CROSS.  123 

appearance  of  three  suns  in  the  sky  was  regarded  as 
a  strange  prodigy ;  and  Edward  either  believed,  or 
affected  to  believe,  that  the  phenomenon  was  an 
omen  of  good  fortune.  Encouraging  his  soldiers 
with  the  hope  of  victory,  he  set  fiercely  upon  the 
enemy. 

The  Tudors,  whose  heads  had  been  turned  by  un- 
merited prosperity,  were  by  no  means  prepared  for 
defeat.  Owen,  with  whom  a  queen-dowager  had 
united  her  fate,  and  Jasper,  on  whom  a  king  had 
conferred  an  earldom,  were  too  much  intoxicated  to 
perceive  the  danger  of  giving  chase  to  the  heir  of 
the  Plantagenets.  Not  till  Edward  turned  savagely 
to  bay  did  they  pei-ceive  that,  instead  of  starting  a 
hare,  they  had  roused  a  lion. 

At  length  the  armies  joined  battle,  and  a  fierce 
conflict  took  place.  Edward,  exhibiting  that  skill 
which  afterward  humbled  the  most  potent  of  En- 
gland's barons,  saw  thousands  of  his  foes  hurled  to 
the  ground ;  and  Jasper,  forgetful  of  his  heraldic 
precept,  that  death  is  better  than  disgrace,  left  his 
followers  to  their  fate  and  fled  from  the  field.  Owen, 
however,  declined  to  follow  his  son's  example.  He 
had  fought  at  Agincourt,  he  remembered,  and  had 
not  learned  to  fly.  His  courage  did  not  save  the 
Welsh  adherents  of  Lancaster  from  defeat ;  and,  in 
spite  of  his  efforts,  he  was  taken  prisoner  with  David 
Lloyd,  Morgan  ap  Reuther,  and  other  Welshmen. 


124  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Edward  had  now  a  golden  opportunity,  by  sparing 
the  vanquished,  of  setting  a  great  example  to  his 
adversaries.  But  the  use  which  Margaret  had  made 
of  her  victory  at  Wakefield  could  not  be  forgotten  ; 
and  it  seemed  to  be  understood  that  henceforth  no 
quarter  was  to  be  given  in  the  Wars  of  the  Roses. 
Accordingly,  Owen  and  his  friends  were  conveyed 
to  Hereford,  and  executed  in  the  market-place.  The 
old  Agincourt  soldier  was  buried  in  the  chapel  of 
the  Grey  Friars'  Church ;  but  no  monument  was 
erected  by  his  regal  descendants  in  memory  of  the 
Celtic  hero  whose  lucky  stumble  over  a  royal  wid- 
ow's robes  resulted  in  his  sept  exchanging  the  ob- 
scurity of  Beaumaris  for  the  splendor  of  Windsor. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

BEFORE    TOAVTON. 

ON  the  3d  of  March,  1461,  while  Margaret  of  An- 
jou  was  leading  her  army  toward  the  Humber,  and 
the  citizens  of  London  were  awakening  from  fearful 
dreams  of  northern  men  plundering  their  warehouses 
with  lawless  violence,  and  treating  their  women  with 
indelicate  freedom,  Edward  of  York  entered  the  cap- 
ital at  the  head  of  his  victorious  army.  Accom- 
panied by  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  by  whom  he  had 
been  joined  at  Chipping  Norton,  the  conqueror  of 
the  Tudors  rode  through  the  city,  and  was  welcomed 
with  the  utmost  enthusiasm.  It  was  long  since 
London  had  been  the  scene  of  such  loyal  excitement. 
From  Kent  and  Essex  came  crowds  to  gaze  on  the 
handsome  son  of  Richard,  Duke  of  York  ;  and  many 
were  the  predictions  that,  as  a  native  of  Rouen,  Ed- 
ward would  reconquer  Normandy,  and  retrieve  those 
losses  which,  under  the  government  of  Margaret  of 
Anjou,  the  English  had  sustained  on  the  Continent. 

Whatever  he  might  pretend,  Edward  had  none 
of  the  moderation  that  characterized  his  father,  and 
he  was  determined  without  delay  to  ascend  the 
throne,  which  he  had  been  taught  to  consider  his  by 


126  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

hereditary  right.  Anxious,  however,  to  have  the 
popular  assent  to  the  step  he  was  about  to  take,  the 
heir  of  the  Plantagenets  resolved  to  test  the  loyalty 
of  the  Londoners.  With  this  object  a  grand  review, 
in  St.  John's  Fields,  was  proclaimed  by  William  Nev- 
ille, Lord  Falconbridge ;  and  the  wealthy  citizens, 
as  well  as  the  multitude,  assembled  to  witness  the 
military  pageant.  Suddenly  availing  himself  of  a 
favorable  moment,  Warwick's  brother,  the  Bishop 
of  Exeter,  addressed  the  crowd  on  the  great  dynas- 
tic dispute,  and  asked  them  plainly  whether  they 
would  any  longer  have  Henry  to  reign  over  them. 
"  Nay,  nay,"  answered  the  crowd.  Warwick's  uncle, 
Lord  Falconbridge,  having  then  spoken  in  praise  of 
Edward's  valor  and  wisdom,  asked  if  they  would 
have  him  for  king.  "  Yea,  yea — King  Edward, 
King  Edward,"  shouted  the  populace,  with  one  ac- 
cord, cheering  and  clapping  their  hands. 

The  Yorkist  chiefs  were  satisfied  with  the  result 
of  their  experiment  in  St.  John's  Fields  ;  and  next 
day  a  great  council  was,  held  at  Baynard's  Castle. 
After  due  deliberation,  the  peers  and  prelates  de- 
clared that  Henry,  in  joining  the  queen's  army  and 
breaking  faith  with  Parliament,  had  forfeited  the 
crown  ;  and  the  heir  of  York,  after  riding  in  royal 
state  to  Westminster,  offered  at  St.  Edward's  ,-lirine, 
assumed  the  Confessor's  crown,  ascended  the  throne, 
explained  the  nature  of  his  claim,  and  harangued 


EDWARD  ON  THE  THRONE.  127 

the  people.  His  spirit  and  energy  inspired  the  au- 
dience with  enthusiasm,  and  he  was  frequently  in- 
terrupted with  shouts  of  "  Long  live  King  Edward." 

On  the  day  when  the  young  Plantagenet  took 
possession  of  the  English  throne  at  Westminster,  he 
was  proclaimed  king  in  various  parts  of  London. 
Edward  was  not,  however,  so  intoxicated  with  the 
applause  with  which  the  men  of  the  south  had  greet- 
ed his  arrival  in  the  metropolis  as  to  delude  himself 
into  the  idea  that  his  triumph  was  complete.  He 
knew  that  the  lords  of  the  north  would  again  rise 
in  arms  for  the  Red  Rose,  and  that  battles  must  be 
won,  and  fortresses  taken,  ere  the  crown  of  St.  Ed- 
ward could  sit  easily  on  his  head. 

Nothing,  however,  could  be  gained  by  delay  ;  and 
Warwick  was  well  aware  of  the  danger  of  procrasti- 
nation at  such  a  crisis.  The  young  king  and  the 
king-maker,  therefore,  resolved  upon  marching  forth- 
with against  the  Lancastrians,  to  achieve,  as  they 
hoped,  a  crowning  victory ;  and,  having  sent  the 
Duke  of  Norfolk  to  recruit  in  the  provinces,  they 
made  preparations  to  go  in  search  of  their  foes. 

No  time  was  wasted.  Indeed,  within  three  days 
of  entering  London,  Warwick  marched  northward 
with  the  van  of  the  Yorkist  army  ;  and  the  infantry 
having  meanwhile  followed,  Edward,  on  the  12th  of 
March,  buckled  on  his  armor,  mounted  his  war-steed, 
and  rode  out  of  Bishopgate  to  conquer  or  die.  By 


128  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

easy  marches  the  royal  warrior  reached  Pontefract, 
memorable  as  the  scene  of  the  second  Richard's  mur- 
der ;  and,  having,  while  resting  there,  enjoyed  the 
satisfaction  of  seeing  his  army  swell  to  the  number 
of  forty-nine  thousand,  he  dispatched  Lord  Fitzwal- 
ter,  with  a  band  of  tall  men,  to  keep  the  passage 
over  the  Aire  at  Ferrybridge. 

Nor  had  Margaret  failed  to  prepare  for  the  in- 
evitable conflict.  When,  at  St.  Albans,  the  Lancas- 
trian queen  found  that  her  foes  were  still  unsub- 
dued, she  speedily  bore  back  to  the  northern  coun- 
ties, and  commenced  recruiting  her  army  on  the 
banks  of  the  1 1  umber,  the  Trent,  and  the  Tyne. 
Her  spirit,  ever  highest  in  the  time  of  trouble,  sus- 
tained the  courage  of  her  adherents;  and  "the  men 
of  the  north,  who  now,  without  entering  into  the 
delicate  questions  of  hereditary  right  and  parlia- 
mentary settlement,  sympathized  with  the  dethroned 
queen,  came  from  towers  by  the  wayside,  and  sheal- 
ings  on  the  moor,  till  around  the  Lancastrian  ban- 
ner at  York  mustered  an  army  of  sixty  thousand. 

On  hearing  of  Edward's  approach  the  queen  re- 
solved to  remain,  with  Henry  and  the  young  prince, 
at  York,  to  await  the  issue  of  the  battle  impending. 
But  she  could  hardly  dream  of  defeat  as  she  inspect- 
ed that  numerous  army,  headed  by  knights  and  no- 
bles arrayed  in  rich  armor  and  mounted  on  pranc- 
ing steeds,  who  had  gathered  to  her  standard  in  the 


THE  LANCASTRIAN  WARRIORS.  129 

capital  of  the  north.  Somerset,  Northumberland, 
and  Clifford,  appeared  in  feudal  pride,  determined 
at  length  to  avenge  the  slaughter  of  their  sires  at  St. 
Albans  ;  and  the  Duke  of  Exeter,  with  John,  Lord 
Neville,  brother  to  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland,  and 
Thomas  Courtenay,  Earl  of  Devon,  without  the  death 
of  sires  to  avenge,  came  to  fight  for  the  Red  Rose ; 
the  first  against  his  brother-in-law,  King  Edward, 
the  second  against  his  kinsmen,  the  Lords  Warwick 
and  Falconbridge,  and  the  third  against  the  house 
of  York,  of  which  his  father  had  been  one  of  the 
earliest  adherents.  Many  other  stanch  Lancastri- 
ans, bearing  names  celebrated  in  history  and  song, 
had  assembled  ;  as  Leo,  Lord  Welles,  James  Butler, 
Earl  of  Wiltshire,  Ralph,  Lord  Dacre  of  the  north, 
and  Thomas,  Lord  De  Roos,  heir  of  that  great  An- 
glo-Norman baron  of  the  twelfth  century,  whose 
effigy  is  still  to  be  seen  in  the  Temple  Church. 
Among  the  Percies,  Beauforts,  and  Cliffords  figured 
Sir  John  Heron,  of  the  Ford,  a  stalwart  Borderer, 
who,  in  his  day,  had  laid  lance  in  rest  against  the 
Homes  and  Cranstouns  ;  and  Andrew  Trollope,  that 
mighty  man  of  war,  whose  betrayal  of  the  Yorkists 
at  Ludlow  had,  for  a  year,  delayed  the  exile  of  Mar- 
garet of  Anjou.  Even  a  venerable  lawyer  and  a 
subtle  churchman  might  have  been  seen  in  the  Lan- 
castrian ranks  ;  for  Sir  John  Fortescue  had  left  the 
Court  of  King's  Bench  to  fight  for  the  cause  which 
I 


130  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

he  believed  to  be  that  of  truth  and  justice ;  and 
John  Morton  had  deserted  the  parsonage  of  Blokes- 
worth  to  Avin  preferment,  if  possible,  by  the  arm  of 
flesh.  Such  were  the  chiefs,  devoted  heart  and  hand 
to  the  house  of  Lancaster,  who,  at  the  head  of  the 
northern  men,  awaited  the  coming  of  the  Yorkist 
king  and  the  king-maker. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

TOWTON   FIELD. 

WITH  Margaret  of  Anjou  heading  a  mighty  army 
at  York,  and  Edward  Plantagenet  heading  an  army, 
not  assuredly  so  numerous,  but  perhaps  not  less 
mighty,  at  Pontefract,  a  conflict  could  not  long  be 
delayed.  Nor,  indeed,  had  the  partisans  of  either 
Rose  any  reason  to  shrink  from  an  encounter.  For, 
while  the  Yorkist  chiefs  felt  that  nothing  less  than  a 
crowning  triumph  could  save  them  from  the  ven- 
geance of  the  dethroned  queen,  the  Lancastrian 
lords  were  not  less  fully  aware  that  nothing  but  a 
decisive  victory  could  insure  to  them  their  posses- 
sions and  restore  to  Henry  his  throne. 

Learning  that  Edward  was  at  Pontefract,  and 
anxious  to  prevent  him  passing  the  Aire,  Margaret's 
magnificent  army  moved  from  York.  Formidable, 
indeed,  the  Lancastrians  must  have  looked  as  they 
left  the  capital  of  the  North,  and  marched  south- 
ward;  Somerset  figuring  as  commander-in-chief ; 
while  Northumberland,  aided  by  Andrew  Trollope, 
the  great  soldier  of  the  Red  Rose  ranks,  led  the  van  ; 
and  Clifford,  with  the  hands  that  had  been  dyed  in 
Rutland's  blood,  reined  in  his  prancing  steed  at  the 


132  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

head  of  the  light  cavalry.  Crossing  the  Wharfe,  and 
marching  through  Tadcaster,  the  queen's  captains 
posted  their  men  to  the  south  of  Towton,  a  little 
village  some  eight  miles  from  York.  In  front  of 
their  main  body  was  a  valley  known  as  Towton 
Dale  ;  their  right  wing  was  protected  by  a  cliff,  and 
their  left  by  a  marsh,  which  has  since  disappeared. 

Somerset  had  hoped  to  keep  the  Aire  between 
him  and  the  Yorkist  foe ;  and  the  aspiring  duke 
was  somewhat  dismayed  to  hear  that  Lord  Fitzwal- 
ter  had  seized  Ferrybridge,  and  posted  his  company 
on  the  north  side  of  the  river.  The  Lancastrian 
lords,  however,  were  in  no  mood  to  be  daunted ;  and 
Clifford,  who  was  quite  as  courageous  as  cruel,  read- 
ily undertook  to  dislodge  the  Yorkist  warriors  from 
the  position  they  occupied.  Accordingly,  at  the 
head  of  his  light  cavalry,  and  accompanied  by  Lord 
Neville,  Clifford  spurred  across  the  country,  reached 
Ferrybridge  by  break  of  day,  and,  finding  the  guards 
asleep  and  utterly  unsuspicious  of  an  attack,  had 
little  difficulty  in  fulfilling  his  mission.  Ere  well 
awake  half  of  the  men  were  slaughtered,  and  the 
survivors  were  glad  to  escape  to  the  south  side  of 
the  Aire.  Hearing  a  noise,  and  supposing  that 
some  quarrel  had  arisen  among  his  soldiers,  Fitz- 
walter  rose  from  his  couch,  seized  a  battle-axe,  and 
hastened  to  restore  order.  But  before  the  Yorkist 
lord  could  even  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  disturb- 


THE  FRAY  AT  FERRYBRIDGE.  133 

ance  he  was  surrounded  and  slain,  and,  with  him, 
Warwick's  illegitimate  brother,  known  as  "The 
Bastard  of  Salisbury,"  and  described  as  "  a  valiant 
young  gentleman,  and  of  great  audacity." 

Early  on  Saturday  news  of  Clifford's  exploit 
reached  Pontefract  and  caused  something  like  a 
panic  in  the  Yorkist  camp.  Awed  by  the  terrible 
name  of  Clifford,  and  not  unaware  of  the  numerical 
superiority  of  their  foes,  the  soldiers  lost  heart  and 
showed  a  disposition  to  waver.  At  this  crisis,  how- 
ever, it  became  known  that  Warwick  had  mounted 
his  horse,  and  every  eye  was  turned  toward  the 
king-maker  as  he  spurred  through  the  lines  straight 
to  King  Edward. 

"Sir,"  said  the  earl,  dismounting,  "may  GOD 
have  mercy  upon  their  souls,  who,  for  love  of  you, 
have  lost  their  lives.  I  see  no  hope  of  succor  but 
in  Him,  to  whom  I  remit  the  vengeance." 

Edward,  perhaps,  thought  Warwick  was  mani- 
festing more  alarm  than  was  either  necessary  or 
prudent.  "  All  who  were  afraid  to  fight  might,  at 
their  pleasure,  depart,"  the  king  said,  "  but  to  those 
that  would  stay  he  promised  good  reward ;  and," 
he  added,  "  if  any  after  staying  should  turn  or  flee, 
then  that  he  who  killed  such  a  dastard  should  have 
double  pay." 

"  Though  your  whole  army  should  take  to  flight," 
said  Warwick  to  Edward,  "  I  will  remain  to  fight ;" 


134  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

and,  having  thus  expressed  his  resolution  to  stand  by 
the  young  king  to  the  death,  the  earl,  in  a  manner 
not  to  be  mistaken,  intimated  to  the  army  of  the 
White  Kose  that  he,  for  one,  rather  than  retreat 
one  inch,  was  prepared  to  die  with  his  feet  to  the 
foe.  Drawing  his  sword,  the  patrician  hero  kissed 
the  hilt,  which  was  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  and,  kill- 
ing his  war-horse  in  view  of  the  soldiers,  he  ex- 
claimed, "  Let  him  flee  that  will  flee,  I  will  tarry 
with  him  that  will  tarry  with  me." 

The  effect  of  this  sacrifice  was  marvelous ;  the 
soldiers  saw  that  their  chief  and  idol  relied  solely 
on  their  courage,  that  with  them  he  would  fight  on 
foot,  arid  that  with  them  he  would  share  victory  or 
defeat.  A  feeling  of  enthusiasm  pervaded  the  army, 
and  not  one  man  was  craven  enough  to  desert  the 
great  warrior-statesman  in  that  hour  of  peril. 

The  Duke  of  Norfolk,  as  heir  of  Thomas  de 
Brotherton,  held  the  office  of  earl  marshal,  and 
was  therefore  entitled  to  lead  the  van  of  England's 
army.  It  happened,  however,  that  Norfolk  had  not 
yet  made  his  appearance  among  the  Yorkist  war- 
riors, and,  in  his  absence,  Warwick's  uncle,  Lord  Fal- 
conbridge,  took  the  post  of  distinction  and  danger. 
With  a  view  of  cutting  off  Clifford's  cavalry  from 
the  main  body  of  the  Lancastrians,  Falconbridge,  at 
the  head  of  the  Yorkist  van,  passed  the  Aire  at  Cas- 
tleford,  three  miles  above  Ferrybridge,  and,  favored 


SKIRMISH  AT  DINTINGDALE.  135 

by  the  windings  of  the  river,  led  his  men  along  the 
north  bank  ere  Clifford  was  aware  of  the  enemy 
being  in  motion.  On  being  informed  of  the  fact, 
however,  the  Lancastrian  leader  mustered  his  horse- 
men and  made  a  dash  northward  to  reach  the  queen's 
camp.  Fortune,  however,  was  this  time  against  the 
savage  lord.  At  Dintingdale,  somewhat  less  than 
two  miles  from  Towton,  the  murderer  of  Rutland 
and  the  executioner  of  Salisbury  found  that  the 
avengers  were  upon  him,  and  turned  desperately 
to  bay.  A  sharp  and  sanguinary  skirmish  ensued. 
Clifford  offered  a  brave  resistance  to  his  fate,  but, 
pierced  in  the  throat  with  an  arrow,  he  fell,  never 
more  to  rise.  Lord  Neville  having  shared  Clifford's 
fate,  most  of  the  light  horsemen  fell  where  they 
fought,  and  Ferrybridge  was  retaken. 

On  receiving  intelligence  of  the  victory  at  Dint- 
ingdale and  the  recovery  of  Ferrybridge,  Edward 
hastened  to  pass  the  Aire,  leading  the  centre  of  the 
Yorkist  army,  while  the  right  wing  was  headed  by 
Warwick,  and  the  rear  brought  up  by  Sir  John 
Denham,  a  veteran  warrior  who  had  ever  adhered 
to  the  Yorkist  cause,  and  Sir  John  Wenlock,  who 
had  once  already  changed  sides  to  his  profit,  and 
was  to  do  so  again  to  his  loss.  As  the  day  was 
drawing  to  a  close  the  Yorkists  reached  Saxton,  a 
village  little  more  than  a  mile  south  from  Towton, 
and,  on  their  coming  in  sight  of  the  Lancastrian 


136  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

host,  the  northern  and  southern  armies  expressed 
the  intense  hatred  they  felt  for  each  other  by  a  long 
yell  of  defiance.  At  the  same  time  Edward  caused 
proclamation  to  be  made,  in  the  hearing  of  both, 
that,  on  his  side,  no  prisoners  should  be  taken  and 
no  quarter  given  ;  and  Somerset  immediately  order- 
ed a  similar  proclamation  to  be  made  in  the  name 
of  the  Lancastrian  chiefs. 

All  that  cold  March  night  the  hostile  armies  pre- 
pared for  the  combat,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  29th 
of  March — it  was  that  of  Palm  Sunday — Yorkist 
and  Lancastrian  sprang  to  arms.  As  the  warriors 
of  the  Roses  approached  each  other  snow  began  to 
fall  heavily,  and,  from  having  the  wind  in  their  faces, 
the  Lancastrians  were  much  inconvenienced  by  the 
flakes  being  blown  in  their  eyes.  Falconbridge, 
prompt  to  avail  himself  of  such  a  circumstance, 
caused  the  archers  in  the  Yorkist  van  to  advance, 
send  a  flight  of  arrows  among  their  antagonists,  and 
then  draw  back  to  await  the  result.  Galled  by  this 
discharge,  the  Lancastrians,  who  formed  the  van  of 
the  queen's  army,  bent  their  bows  in  retaliation ; 
but,  blinded  by  snow,  they  shot  at  random,  and  the 
shafts  fell  forty  yards  short  of  their  adversaries. 

Northumberland,  the  grandson  of  Hotspur,  and 
Andrew  Trollope,  that  "  terrible  man-at-arms,"  did 
not  relish  this  inauspicious  opening  of  the  battle. 
Perceiving  that  at  a  distance  they  were  fighting  at 


MORNING  OF  PALM  SUNDAY.  137 

disadvantage,  Trollope  and  the  earl  ordered  the  men 
to  draw  their  blades,  to  rush  forward,  and  to  close 
with  the  foe.  An  unexpected  obstacle,  however, 
presented  itself  to  the  assailants ;  for  the  northern 
men,  finding  their  feet  entangled  in  their  own  shafts 
that  stuck  in  the  ground,  came  to  a  halt ;  and  the 
Yorkists,  galling  their  adversaries  with  another 
shower  of  arrows,  threw  them  into  confusion,  and 
drove  them  precipitately  back  on  the  main  body  of 
the  Lancastrians. 

The  White  Rose  was  so  far  fortunate ;  but  the 
Lancastrians,  conscious  of  superior  numbers,  and 
elate  with  their  victories  at  Wakefield  and  Bernard's 
Heath,  were  not  to  be  daunted.  Ere  Northumber- 
land fell  back  on  the  queen's  forces,  the  two  armies 
were  face  to  face,  and  on  neither  side  was  there  any 
wish  to  delay  meeting  hand  to  hand.  Impatient  to 
try  conclusions,  and  disdaining  to  balk  his  enemies 
of  the  close  conflict  they  desired,  Falconbridge  gave 
the  word  for  his  soldiers  to  lay  aside  their  bows,  take 
to  their  swords,  and  advance  to  the  encounter ;  and, 
with  shouts  of  anger  and  scorn,  the  men  of  the  north 
and  of  the  south  approached  each  other  to  decide 
their  quarrel  with  foot  opposed  to  foot,  and  steel  to 
steel. 

The  clarions  having  sounded  a  charge,  the  battle 
now  began  in  earnest,  and  with  such  fury  as  had 
never  before  been  displayed  by  Englishmen  when 


/38  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

opposed  to  each  other.  The  leaders  trusted  less  to 
their  own  generalship  than  to  the  courage  of  their 
men ;  and  the  soldiers  on  both  sides,  animated  with 
the  deadliest  hatred  of  their  foes,  moved  forward  in 
masses.  Every  man  fought  as  if  the  quarrel  had 
been  his  own ;  and  among  the  fiercest  and  foremost, 
where  skulls  were  cleaved  and  blood  shed,  appeared, 
on  one  side,  Andrew  Trollope,  performing  prodigies 
of  valor,  and,  on  the  other,  the  young  king,  fiery  with 
martial  ardor,  and  freely  hazarding  his  life  to  ad- 
vance his  fortunes.  Mounted  on  barbed  steed,  and 
arrayed  in  emblazoned  surcoat,  and  his  standard,  on 
which  was  a  black  bull,  borne  by  Ralph  Vestynden, 
Edward  seemed  the  very  prince  to  kindle  enthusi- 
asm in  the  heart  of  a  multitude ;  and  woe  betided 
those  who  crossed  his  path,  as,  in  this,  his  twentieth 
year,  he  fought  with  the  savage  valor  which  after- 
ward bore  down  all  opposition  on  the  fields  of  Bar- 
net  and  Tewkesbury.  The  king's  courage  and  prow- 
ess made  him  conspicuous  in  the  fight,  and  his  in- 
domitable determination  contributed  in  no  slight  de- 
gree to  maintain  the  resolution  of  the  Yorkists  to 
conquer  or  to  die  for  his  sake. 

But,  notwithstanding  Edward's  achievements,  and 
the  confidence  with  which  the  soldiers  fought  under 
Warwick's  leadership,  hours  passed,  and  thousands 
upon  thousands  fell,  without  the  prospect  of  a  York- 
ist victory.  Still  the  northern  war-cries  rose  upon 


THE  BATTLE.  139 

the  gale ;  still  Andrew  Trollope  hounded  the  north- 
ern men  upon  their  foes ;  and  still  terrible  proved 
the  sweep  of  those  long  lances  with  which,  at  Wake- 
field,  Herons  and  Tunstalls  and  Whartons  had  scat- 
tered the  chivalry  of  York  as  the  wind  scatters 
leaves.  No  easy  victory  could,  by  any  warriors,  be 
won  against  such  foes  ;  and  in  spite  of  all  the  young 
king's  courage,  and  "  The  Stout  Earl's"  sagacity,  it 
appeared  too  likely  that  Trollope,  with  fortune  as 
well  as  numbers  on  his  side,  would  conquer,  and 
that  the  bloodiest  day  England  had  ever  seen  would 
close  in  a  Lancastrian  triumph. 

Meanwhile  the  aspect  of  the  field  was  too  terrible 
even  to  be  described  without  a  shudder.  All  on  the 
ridge  between  Towton  and  Saxton  were  heaps  of 
dead,  and  wounded,  and  dying ;  and  the  blood  of 
the  slain  lay  caked  with  the  snow  that  covered  the 
ground,  and  afterward,  dissolving  with  it,  ran  down 
the  furrows  and  ditches  for  miles  together.  Never, 
indeed,  in  England,  had  such  a  scene  of  carnage  been 
witnessed  as  that  upon  which  the  villagers  of  Tow- 
ton  and  Saxton  looked  out  from  their  lowly  cot- 
tages, and  of  which  the  citizens  of  York  heard  fly- 
ing rumors,  as,  in  common  with  Christendom,  they 
celebrated  the  festival  commemorative  of  our  Re- 
deemer's entry  into  Jerusalem. 

At  length,  when  the  battle  had  lasted  well-nigh 
ten  hours,  and  thousands  had  fallen  in  the  sanguin- 


140  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

ary  conflict,  fortune  so  far  favored  the  Red  Rose 
that  it  seemed  as  if  those  long  Border  spears  so  sel- 
dom couched  in  vain,  were  destined  to  win  back  the 
crown  of  St.  Edward  for  Henry  of  Windsor.  The 
Yorkists  were,  in  fact,  giving  way ;  and  Warwick 
must  have  felt  that  his  charger  had  been  sacrificed 
in  vain,  and  that  his  head  was  not  unlikely  to  oc- 
cupy a  place  between  those  of  York  and  Salisbury 
over  the  gates  of  the  northern  capital,  when,  through 
the  snow  which  darkened  the  air  and  drifted  over  the 
country,  another  army  was  seen  advancing  from  the 
south  ;  and  into  the  field,  fresh  and  in  no  humor  to 
avoid  the  combat,  came  the  fighting  men  of  Norfolk, 
under  the  banner  of  the  princely  Mowbrays,  to  the 
aid  of  Edward's  wavering  ranks.  This  new  arrival 
of  feudal  warriors  speedily  turned  the  scale  in  favor 
of  York  ;  and  while  Edward  animated  his  adherents, 
and  Warwick  urged  the  Yorkists  to  renewed  exer- 
tion, the  Lancastrians,  after  an  attempt  to  resist  their 
fate,  at  first  slowly  and  frowning  defiance  on  their 
foes,  but  gradually  with  more  rapid  steps,  commenced 
a  retreat  northward. 

Among  the  thousands  who,  on  that  stormy  Palm 
Sunday,  took  the  field  with  Red  Roses  on  their  gor- 
gets, there  was  no  better  or  braver  knight  than 
Ralph,  Lord  Dacre.  From  his  castle  of  Naworth, 
in  Cumberland,  Dacre  had  brought  his  riders,  ar- 
rayed under  the  ancestral  banner — 


ROUT  OF  THE  LANCASTRIANS.  141 

"That  swept  the  shores  of  Judah's  sea, 
And  waved  in  gales  of  Galilee" — 

and  mounted  to  strike  for  King  Henry ;  not,  per- 
haps, without  some  presentiment  of  filling  a  war- 
rior's grave.  But  death  by  a  mean  hand  the  lordly 
warrior  would  not  contemplate ;  and  with  a  spirit 
as  high  as  his  progenitor,  who  fought  at  Acre  with 
Richard  C&ur  de  Lion,  he  could*  hardly  dream  of 
falling  by  a  weapon  less  renowned  than  Warwick's 
axe,  or  Edward's  lance,  or  the  sword  of  William 
Hastings,  who,  in  the  young  king's  track,  slaughter- 
ing as  he  rode,  was  winning  golden  spurs  and  broad 
baronies.  No  death  so  distinguished,  however,  await- 
ed Lord  Dacre  of  the  North.  While  in  a  large  field, 
known  as  the  North  Acre,  and  still  in  rustic  tradi- 
tion and  rhyme  associated  with  his  name,  the  haugh- 
ty Borderer,  probably  making  a  last  effort  to  rally 
the  beaten  and  retreating  Lancastrians,  was  mor- 
tally wounded  with  an  arrow  shot  by  a  boy  out  of 
an  auberry-tree,  and  prostrated  among  dead  and  dy- 
ing on  the  miry  ground. 

"All  is  lost,"  groaned  Exeter  and  Somerset,  in 
bitter  mood,  as  together  they  spurred  over  mounds 
of  slain,  and  galloped  toward  York,  to  warn  the 
queen  that  her  foes  were  conquerors.  And  well, 
indeed,  might  the  Lancastrian  dukes  express  them- 
selves in  accents  of  despair,  for  never  before  had  an 
English  army  been  in  a  more  hapless  plight  than 


112  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

that  which  they  were  now  leaving  to  its  fate.  At 
first,  the  retreat  of  the  Lancastrians  was  conducted 
with  some  degree  of  order;  but,  ere  long,  their 
ranks  were  broken  by  the  pursuing  foe,  and  every 
thing  was  confusion  as  they  fled  in  a  mass  toward 
Tadcaster.  No  leader  of  mark  remained  to  direct 
or  control  the  ill-fated  army  in  the  hour  of  disaster. 
John  Heron,  and  Leo,  Lord  Welles,  were  slain. 
Andrew  Trollope,  after  having  "  done  marvelous 
deeds  of  valor,"  lay  cold  on  the  ground ;  Northum- 
berland stooped  his  lofty  crest  as  low  as  death  ; 
Devon  and  Wiltshire  were  heading  the  flight,  and 
in  vain  endeavoring  to  place  themselves  beyond  the 
vengeance  of  the  victors.  Resistance  was  hopeless; 
quarter  was  neither  asked  nor  given ;  the  carnage 
was  so  frightful  that  the  road  to  York  was  literal- 
ly red  with  the  blood  and  strewn  with  the  bodies 
of  the  slain ;  and  the  pursuit  was  .so  hot  and 
eager  that  multitudes  were  drowned  in  attempt- 
ing to  cross  the  rivulet  of  Cock,  while  the  corpses 
formed  a  bridge  over  which  the  pursuers  passed. 
The  brook  ran  purple  with  blood,  and  crimsoned, 
as  it  formed  a  junction  with,  the  waters  of  the 
Wharfe. 

Evening  closed,  at  length,  over  the  field  of  Tow- 
ton,  but  without  putting  an  end  to  the  work  of  de- 
struction. Till  the  noon  of  Monday  the  pursuit  was 
keenly  urged,  and  a  running  fight,  kept  up  beyond 


EDWARD  A  CONQUEROR.  143 

the  Tyne,  caused  much  bloodshed.*  The  Chief 
Justice  of  England  and  the  Parson  of  Blokesworth 
escaped.  But  Devon  and  Wiltshire  were  less  for- 
tunate. One  was  taken  near  York,  the  other  seized 
near  Cockermouth  by  an  esquire  named  Richard 
Salkeld  ;  and  both  were  executed  by  martial  law. 

After  his  signal  victory  on  Towton  Field,  Edward 
knighted  Hastings,  Humphrey  Stafford,  and  others, 
and  then  rode  in  triumph  to  York.  Henry,  with 
Queen  Margaret  and  the  prince,  having  fled  from 
the  city,  the  inhabitants  received  him  with  humble 
submission ;  and,  having  taken  down  the  heads  of 
his  kinsmen  from  the  gates,  and  set  up  those  of 
Devon  and  Wiltshire  instead,  Edward  remained  at 
York,  and  kept  the  festival  of  Easter  with  great 
splendor.  After  visiting  Durham,  and  settling  the 
affairs  of  the  north,  the  young  king  turned  his  face 
toward  London. 

From  the  day  on  which  Edward  rode  out  of 
Bishopgate  until  Easter,  the  citizens  had  been  in 
fearful  suspense.  At  length  a  messenger  reached 
Baynard's  Castle  to  inform  the  Duchess  of  York 
that  the  Lancastrians  had  been  routed ;  and,  when 
the  news  spread,  the  metropolis  was  the  scene  of 

*  "The  chase, "  says  Hall,  "continued  all  night,  and  tho 
most  part  of  the  next  clay ;  and  ever  the  northern  men,  when 
they  saw  or  perceived  any  advantage,  returned  again  and 
fought  with  their  enemies,  to  the  great  loss  of  both  parties." 


144  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

joy  and  rejoicing.  Men  of  all  ranks  breathed  free- 
ly, and  thanked  GOD  for  giving  King  Edward  the 
victory ;  and  minstrels,  in  grateful  strains,  sang  the 
praise  of  the  royal  warrior  who  had  saved  the  fair 
southern  shires  from  the  fierce  and  rude  spearmen 
of  the  north. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  QUEEN'S  STRUGGLES  WITH  ADVERSITY. 

ON  Palm  Sunday,  when,  on  Towton  Field,  the 
armies  of  York  and  Lancaster  were  celebrating  the 
festival  with  lances  instead  of  palms,  Margaret  of 
Anjou,  with  the  king,  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and 
Lord  De  Koos,  remained  at  York  to  await  the  issue 
of  the  conflict.  The  Lancastrians,  when  they  rode 
forth,  appeared  so  confident  of  victory  that,  in  all 
probability,  the  queen  was  far  from  entertaining 
serious  apprehensions.  As  the  day  wore  on,  how- 
ever, Somerset  and  Exeter  spurred  into  the  city, 
announced  that  all  was  lost,  and  recommended  a 
speedy  flight. 

Margaret  was  not  the  woman  to  faint  in  the  day 
of  adversity.  The  news  brought  by  her  discomfited 
partisans  was  indeed  hard  to  hear,  but  their  advice 
was  too  reasonable  to  be  rejected.  Dauntless  in 
defeat,  as  merciless  in  victory,  that  resolute  princess 
could,  even  at  such  a  moment,  dream  of  fresh 
chances,  and  calculate  the  advantages  to  be  derived 
from  placing  herself  beyond  the  reach  of  her  ene- 
mies. Besides,  it  was  necessary  to  do  something, 
and  that  quickly.  The  day,  indeed,  was  cold  and 
K 


14C  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

stormy ;  but  what  were  snow  and  sleet  in  compar- 
ison with  the  Yorkist  foe,  headed  by  a  chief  who 
had  proved  at  Mortimer's  Cross  that  he  could  ex-, 
ercise  a  degree  of  cruelty  almost  as  unsparing  as 
that  of  which,  at  Wakefield,  she  had  been  guilty? 
The  queen,  therefore,  determined  on  carrying  her 
husband  and  her  son  to  Scotland ;  and  the  whole 
party,  mounting  in  haste,  rode  northward  with  all 
the  speed  of  which  their  horses  were  capable. 

The  way  was  long  and  the  weather  was  cold  ;  but 
the  fear  of  pursuit  overbore  all  such  consideration*, 
and  the  royal  fugitives  were  fortunate  enough  to 
reach  Newcastle  without  being  overtaken  by  the 
light  horsemen  whom  Edward  had  sent  out  in  pur- 
suit. From  the  banks  of  the  Tyne  the  queen  pro- 
ceeded to  Berwick,  and  thence  found  her  way  to 
Kirkcudbright.  In  that  ancient  town  of  Galloway, 
near  which,  on  an  island  in  Lockfergus,  stood  the 
palace  of  the  old  kings  of  the  province,  Margaret 
left  her  husband  to  tell  his  beads,  while  she  under- 
took a  journey  to  Edinburgh,  that  she  might  con- 
cert measures  for  another  effort  to  retrieve  her  dis- 
asters. 

At  the  Scottish  court  the  unfortunate  queen  was 
received  with  distinction,  and  warm  sympathy  was 
expressed  for  her  mishaps.  But  the  Scots,  though 
dealing  in  fair  words,  were  in  no  mood  to  assist  Mar- 
garet without  a  consideration  ;  and,  to  tempt  them, 


SOMERSET'S  MISSION  TO  FRANCE.          147 

she  agreed  to  surrender  the  town  of  Berwick,  the 
capital  of  the  East  Marches  and  the  last  remnant 
of  the  great  Edwards'  conquests  in  Scotland. 

Berwick  having  thus  been  placed  in  their  posses- 
sion, the  Scots  commenced  operations  in  favor  of 
the  Red  Rose.  One  army  attacked  Carlisle,  anoth- 
er made  an  incursion  into  the  Bishopric  of  Durham. 
Both  expeditions  resulted  in  failure.  Early  in  June, 
Warwick's  brother,  John  Neville,  Lord  Montagu,  de- 
feated the  Scots  under  the  walls  of  Carlisle ;  and, 
ere  the  close  of  that  month,  the  Lancastrians,  under 
Lord  De  Roos,  were  routed  at  Ryton  and  Brance- 
path,  in  Durham. 

Margaret,  however,  was  in  no  humor  to  submit 
to  fortune.  Finding  the  Scottish  court  unable  to 
render  any  effectual  assistance,  the  exiled  queen  dis- 
patched Somerset  to  implore  aid  from  France.  An 
appeal  to  the  French  monarch  could  hardly,  she 
thought,  fail  of  producing  the  desired  effect ;  for  he 
was  her  relative ;  he  had  negotiated  her  marriage 
with  Henry ;  and  he  entertained  so  high  an  opinion 
of  his  fair  kinswoman,  that,  at  parting,  he  had  re- 
marked, almost  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  "  I  feel  as 
though  I  had  done  nothing  for  my  niece  in  placing 
her  on  one  of  the  greatest  of  European  thrones,  for 
it  is  scarcely  worthy  of  posssessing  her." 

Misfortunes  are  said  never  to  come  singly ;  and 
Margaret  had,  ere  long,  reason  to  believe  such  to  be 


148  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

the  case.  Having  lost  her  throne,  she  lost  the  only 
friend  who,  for  her  own  sake,  would  have  made  any 
exertions  to  restore  her.  Ere  Somerset  reached  the 
court  of  Paris,  King  Charles  had  expired  at  the  age 
of  threescore ;  and  his  son,  known  in  history  and 
romance  as  Louis  the  Crafty,  had  succeeded  to  the 
French  crown. 

Louis  had  no  ambition  to  incur  the  enmity  of 
Edward  of  York.  He  even  evinced  his  disregard 
for  his  kinswoman's  claims  by  causing  Somerset  and 
other  Lancastrians  to  be  arrested  while  they  were 
traveling  in  the  disguise  of  merchants.  The  duke 
was,  ere  long,  set  free,  and  admitted  to  the  king's 
presence  ;  but  he  could  not  prevail  on  Louis  to  run 
any  risk  for  the  house  of  Lancaster  ;  and,  after  lurk- 
ing for  a  time  at  Bruges,  to  elude  Edward's  spies, 
he  was  fain  to  return  to  Scotland. 

This  was  not  the  worst.  The  mission  of  Somer- 
set proved  doubly  unfortunate.  Not  only  had  he 
failed  in  his  object  with  the  King  of  France,  but  he 
had  given  mortal  offense  to  the  Queen  of  Scots. 
The  duke,  it  would  seem,  had,  during  his  residence 
in  Scotland,  been  attracted  by  the  charms  of  Mary 
of  Gueldres,  and  the  widowed  queen  had  showed  for 
him  a  much  too  favorable  regard.  In  an  hour  of 
indiscreet  frankness  Somerset  revealed  their  familiar- 
ity to  the  King  of  France ;  and,  the  secret  becom- 
ing known  at  Paris,  reached  the  Scottish  court.  The 


MARGARET  IN  FRANCE.  149 

royal  widow,  on  learning  that  her  weakness  was 
publicly  talked  of,  felt  the  liveliest  indignation  ; 
and  forthwith  employed  Hepburn  of  Hailes,  a  new 
lover,  to  avenge  her  mortally  on  the  chief  of  the 
Beauforts.  Moreover,  she  availed  herself  of  the  op- 
portunity to  break  off  friendly  relations  with  the 
Lancastrian  exiles. 

Matters  had  now,  in  fact,  reached  such  a  stage 
that  Mary  of  Gueldres  could  hardly  have  avoided  a 
quarrel  with  the  Lancastrians.  The  young  King  of 
England  was  far  from  indifferent  to  the  advantage 
of  a  close  alliance  with  the  Scots ;  and  Warwick 
commenced  negotiations  by  proposing,  on  behalf  of 
Edward,  a  marriage  with  their  queen.  Crossing 
the  Border  in  the  spring  of  14G2,  the  king-maker  ar- 
rived at  Dumfries  to  arrange  a  matrimonial  treaty. 

Margaret  of  Anjou  must  now  have  been  some- 
what perplexed.  Even  if  she  had  not  received 
warning  to  quit  the  countiy,  the  presence  of  "  The 
Stout  Earl"  at  Dumfries  was  a  hint  not  to  be  mis- 
taken. Feeling  that  it  was  time  to  be  gone,  the 
Lancastrian  queen  obtained  a  convoy  of  four  Scot- 
tish ships,  and,  embarking  with  her  son,  sailed  for 
the  Continent.  Landing  on  the  coast  of  Brittany, 
Margaret  visited  the  duke  of  that  province  ;  and  he, 
compassionating  her  misfortunes,  advanced  her  a 
sum  of  money.  After  passing  some  time  with  King 
Rene,  who  was  then  at  Anjou,  she  proceeded  with 


150  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

the  Prince  of  AVales  to  the  French  court,  and  im- 
plored Louis  to  aid  in  restoring  Henry  of  Windsor 
to  his  father's  throne. 

The  French  monarch  had  as  little  inclination  as 
before  to  rush  into  war  with  a  powerful  nation 
merely  to  redress  the  wrongs  of  a  distressed  prii 
But  Louis  hud  u  keen  eye  to  his  own  interests,  and 
no  objection  to  meet  Margaret's  wishes,  if,  while  do- 
ing so,  he  could  advance  his  projects.  He,  therefore, 
went  cunningly  to  work,  declaring  at  iirst  that  his 
own  poverty  was  such  as  to  preclude  the  possibility 
of  interference  in  the  affairs  of  others,  but  gradually 
making  Margaret  comprehend  that  he  would  furnish 
her  with  money  if  Calais  were  assigned  to  him  as 
security. 

After  the  battle  of  Cressy,  Calais  had  been  taken 
from  the  French  by  the  third  Edward,  and  was  a 
conquest  for  a  king  to  boast  of.  Such,  at  least, 
continued  the  opinion  of  the  commons  of  England. 
Indeed,  when  sighing  over  the  memory  of  Cressy, 
Poictiers,  and  Agincourt,  and  reflecting  on  their 
subsequent  disasters,  patriots  never  failed  to  con- 
sole themselves  with  the  thought  that,  so  long  as 
Calais  remained  in  their  possession,  they  carried 
the  keys  of  France  and  of  Flanders  at  their  girdle. 
Margaret  did  not,  of  course,  sympathize  with  such 
sentiments ;  and,  catching  at  the  proposal  of  Louis, 
she  put  Calais  in  pawn  for  twenty  thousand  livres. 


BREZE'S  EXPEDITION.  151 

Having  received  this  sum,  she  raised  an  army  of  two 
thousand  men. 

At  that  time  there  was  languishing  in  prison  a 
French  captain  of  great  renown,  named  Peter  de 
Breze,  who,  in  the  reign  of  King  Charles,  had  oc- 
cupied a  high  position,  and  gi'eatly  distinguished 
himself  at  a  tournament  held  in  honor  of  Mar- 
garet's bridal.  Inspired  on  that  occasion  by  the 
Provencal  princess  with  a  chivalrous  devotion  which 
was  proof  against  time  and  change,  he  offered,  if  set 
free,  to  conduct  her  little  army  to  England ;  and 
Louis,  hoping,  it  is  said,  that  the  brave  captain 
might  perish  in  the  enterprise,  gave  him  his  liberty. 

Breze,  embarking  with  the  queen,  set  sail  for 
Northumberland.  Fortune  did  not,  in  any  respect, 
favor  the  invaders.  They,  indeed,  escaped  the  vigi- 
lance of  Edward's  fleet,  and  attempted  to  land  at 
Tynemouth ;  but,  the  weather  proving  unfavorable, 
they  were  driven  ashore  near  Bamburgh.  The  queen 
had  anticipated  that  the  whole  north  would  hail  her 
coming,  but  she  was  utterly  disappointed ;  for,  in- 
stead of  friends  rushing  to  her  aid,  there  appeared 
Sir  Robert  Manners  of  Etal,  and  the  Bastard  Ogle, 
who,  zealous  for  the  White  Rose,  attacked  her  little 
force  with  so  much  determination  that  the  French- 
men were  utterly  routed. 

Margaret  was  fain  to  turn  toward  Berwick ;  but, 
undismayed  by  reverses,  she  determined  to  perse- 


152  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

vere.  Leaving  her  son  in  safety,  and  having  been 
joined  by  some  English  exiles  and  a  body  of  Scots, 
she  seized  the  Castles  of  Bamburgh,  Dunstanburgh, 
and  Alnwick.  While  in  Almvick,  the  strong-hold 
of  the  Percies,  she  Avas  dismayed  by  intelligence  of 
Warwick's  approach ;  and,  after  taking  counsel  with 
Breze,  retired  to  her  ships.  As  she  put  to  sea,  how- 
ever, a  storm  arose,  scattered  her  little  fleet,  and 
wrecked  the  vessels  bearing  her  money  and  stores 
on  the  rocky  coast  of  Northumberland.  The  queen 
was  in  the  utmost  danger ;  but,  having  been  placed 
on  board  a  fishing-boat,  she  had  the  fortune,  in  spite 
of  wind  and  weather,  to  reach  Berwick. 

Warwick,  meanwhile,  approached  with  twenty 
thousand  men ;  and  Edward,  following,  took  up  his 
quarters  at  Durham.  The  queen's  French  troops 
fared  badly.  Five  hundred  of  them,  endeavoring 
to  maintain  themselves  on  Holy  Island,  were  cut  to 
pieces  ;  and  the  garrisons  of  the  three  northern  cas- 
tles were  soon  in  a  desperate  condition.  Indeed, 
the  plight  of  the  Lancastrians  appeared  so  utterly 
hopeless,  that  Somerset  submitted  to  Edward,  and, 
having  been  received  into  the  king's  favor,  fought 
against  his  old  friends. 

Becoming  most  anxious  to  save  Breze,  who,  within 
the  Castle  of  Alnwick,  was  reduced  to  extremity, 
Margaret  applied  to  George  Douglas,  Earl  of  Angus, 
to  rescue  the  gallant  Frenchman  from  the  jeopardy 


MARGARET'S  APPEAL  TO  THE  MARCHMEN.  153 

in  which  he  was  placed.  "  Madam,"  replied  Angus, 
who  was  father  of  the  famous  Bell-the-Cat,  "  I  will 
do  my  utmost ;"  and,  having  crossed  the  Border  with 
a  chosen  band  of  spearmen,  he  broke  through  the 
ranks  of  the  besiegers  and  carried  off  the  garrison 
in  safety. 

The  prospects  of  the  Lancastrians  were  now  dis- 
mal. Margaret,  however,  did  not  despair.  Her 
courage  was  still  too  high — her  spirit  too  haughty 
— to  give  up  the  game,  which  she  had  hitherto 
played  with  so  little  success.  Being  on  the  Scottish 
marches,  she  cultivated  the  friendship  of  those  chiefs 
whose  spearmen  were  the  plague  of  lordly  wardens 
and  the  tei-ror  of  humble  villagers. 

In  the  halls  of  Border  lords,  who,  with  hands 
strong  to  smite,  had,  under  their  coats  of  mail, 
hearts  far  from  insensible  to  the  tears  of  a  beauti- 
ful woman  and  the  supplications  of  a  distressed 
princess,  Margaret  told  the  story  of  her  wrongs. 
With  ;i  voice  now  stining  as  the  sound  of  a  trum- 
pet, now  melancholy  as  the  wind  sighing  among 
sepulchral  yews,  she  reminded  them  what  she  had 
been,  when,  eighteen  years  earlier,  England's  nobles 
paid  homage  to  her  at  Westminster,  as  she  sat  on 
the  throne,  wearing  the  crown  of  gold  and  the  man- 
tle of  purple  ;  how,  when  a  fugitive,  pursued  by  en- 
emies thirsting  for  her  blood,  she  had  endured  want 
and  hunger ;  and  how,  when  an  exile,  depending  for 


154  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

bread  on  the  charity  of  rivals,  she  had  been  humbled 
to  beg  from  a  Scottish  archer  the  mite  which  she 
placed  on  the  shrine  of  a  saint.  Her  poetic  elo- 
quence, potent  to  move  the  heart,  drew  tears  from 
ladies,  and  caused  men  to  lay  their  hands  upon  their 
swords,  and  swear,  by  GOD  and  St.  George,  that  such 
things  must  no  longer  be.  Ever,  when  Margaret  was 
in  disti'ess,  and  laid  aside  her  imperious  tone  and 
haughty  manner,  she  became  too  persuasive  and 
insinuating  to  be  resisted.  It  was  impossible  for 
listeners  to  resist  the  conclusion  that  of  all  injured 
ladies  she  had  suffered  most,  and  that  they  would 
be  unworthy  longer  to  wear  the  crest  and  plume  of 
knights  who  did  not  use  every  effort  to  restore  her 
to  that  throne  which  they  believed  her  so  well  quali- 
fied to  grace. 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  when  the  winter  of 
1463  had  passed,  and  the  spring  of  14G4  again 
painted  the  earth,  the  Red  Rose-tree  began  to  blos- 
som anew.  Margaret  found  herself  at  the  head  of 
a  formidable  army ;  and  Somerset,  hearing  of  her 
success,  deserted  Edward's  court,  rode  post-haste  to 
the  north,  and  took  part  in  the  Lancastrian  insur- 
rection. All  over  England  there  was  a  spirit  of 
discontent  with  the  new  government ;  and  Edward, 
while  watching  the  movements  of  the  malcontents, 
got  so  enthralled  by  female  charms  that,  instead  of 
taking  the  field  against  the  Lancastrian  warriors,  he 


A  CAMPAIGN  IN  NORTHUMBERLAND.        155 

was  exerting  all  his  skill  to  achieve  a  triumph  over 
a  Lancastrian  widow.  However,  he  called  upon  his 
subjects  to  arm  in  his  defense,  and  ordered  a  numer- 
ous force  to  march  to  the  aid  of  Lord  Montagu,  who 
commanded  in  the  north. 

Margaret  was  all  fire  and  energy.  Carrying  in 
her  train  her  meek  husband  and  hopeful  son,  she,  in 
April,  once  more  raised  the  Lancastrian  banner,  and 
marched  southward.  Somerset  and  his  brother,  Ed- 
mund Beaufort,  were  already  at  her  side ;  and  thither, 
also,  went  Exeter,  De  Roos,  Hungerford,  with  Sir 
Ralph  Percy,  who  had  for  a  while  submitted  to  Ed- 
ward, and  Sir  Ralph  Grey,  who,  having  been  a  vi- 
olent Yorkist,  had  lately,  in  revenge  for  not  being 
granted  the  Castle  of  Alnwick,  become  enthusiastic 
for  Lancaster. 

Montagu,  as  Warden  of  the  Marches,  now  found 
his  position  too  close  to  the  enemy  to  be  either  safe 
or  pleasant.  Undismayed,  however,  that  feudal  cap- 
tain met  the  crisis  with  a  courage  worthy  of  his  no- 
ble name,  and  a  vigilance  worthy  of  his  high  office. 
At  Hedgley  Moor,  near  Wooler,  on  the  25th  of  April, 
he  fell  on  a  party  of  the  Lancastrians,  under  Sir 
Ralph  Percy,  and  defeated  them  with  slaughter. 
Sir  Ralph,  a  son  of  the  great  northern  earl  slain  at 
St.  Albans,  and  a  high-spirited  warrior,  fell  fighting, 
exclaiming,  with  his  latest  breath,  "  I  have  saved  the 
bird  in  my  bosom." 


156  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

After  having  so  auspiciously  commenced  his  North- 
umbrian campaign,  Montagu  paused  ;  but  when  Ed- 
ward did  not  appear,  the  noble  warden  lost  patience, 
and  determined  to  strike  a  decisive  blow.  Hearing 
that  the  Lancastrians  were  encamped  on  Level's 
Plain,  on  the  south  side  of  the  Dowel  Water,  near 
Hexham,  he,  on  the  8th  of  May,  bore  down  upon 
their  camp.  Somerset,  who  commanded  the  Lan- 
castrians, was  taken  by  surprise,  and,  indeed,  had  at 
no  time  the  martial  skill  to  contend  with  such  a 
captain  as  Montagu.  The  northern  men,  however, 
met  the  unexpected  attack  with  their  usual  intre- 
pidity ;  but  their  courage  proved  of  no  avail.  For 
a  time,  it  appears  that  neither  side  could  boast  of 
any  advantage ;  till  Montagu,  growing  impatient, 
urged  his  men  to  "  do  it  valiantly ;"  and,  after  a 
desperate  effort,  the  Yorkists  entered  the  queen's 
camp.  A  bloody  conflict  ensued  ;  the  Lancastrians 
were  put  to  the  rout ;  poor  Henry  fled  in  terror  and 
amaze,  and,  mounted  on  a  swift  steed,  contrived  to 
get  out  of  the  fray,  leaving  part  of  his  equipage  in 
the  hands  of  the  victors. 

A  few  days  after  Hexham,  Edward  arrived  at 
York,  and,  having  been  there  met  by  Montagu,  was 
presented  with  the  high  cap  of  state  called  "  Aba- 
cot,"  which  Henry  of  Windsor  had  left  behind  on 
the  day  of  battle.  Out  of  gratitude,  the  king  grant- 
ed to  his  victorious  warden  the  earldom  of  North- 


BATTLE  OF  HEXHAM.  157 

umberland,  which,  having  been  forfeited  by  the  Per- 
cies,  whose  heir  Avas  then  either  a  captive  in  the 
Tower  or  an  exile  in  Scotland,  could  hardly  have 
been  more  appropriately  bestowed  than  on  a  lineal 
descendant  of  Cospatrick  and  Earl  Uchtred. 

Edward,  however,  had  to  punish  as  well  as  re- 
ward, and  such  of  the  Lancastrians  as  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  victors  were  treated  with  extreme  se- 
verity. Somerset,  who  knew  not  where  to  turn, 
who  had  no  reason  to  expect  mercy  in  England,  and 
no  reason  to  expect  protection  in  Scotland — since 
his  revelations  as  to  Mary  of  Gueldres  had  led  War- 
Avick  to  break  off  matrimonial  negotiations  on  behalf 
of  Edward — Avas  discovered  lurking  in  a  wood,  car- 
ried to  Hexham,  tried  by  martial  laAv,  and  beheaded. 
The  ill-starred  duke  died  unmarried,  but  not  with- 
out issue  ;  and  his  descendants,  in  the  illegitimate 
line,  were  destined  to  occupy  a  high  place  among  the 
modern  aristocracy  of  England.  It  happened  that 
a  fair  being,  named  Joan  Hill,  without  being  a  Avife, 
became  a  mother.  Of  her  son,  Somerset  was  under- 
stood to  be  the  father.  After  the  duke's  execution, 
the  boy  went  by  the  name  of  Charles  Somerset ;  and, 
as  years  passed  over,  he  won  the  favor  of  the  Tudors. 
By  Henry  the  Eighth  he  was  created  Earl  of  Wor- 
cester; and  by  Charles  the  Second  the  Earls  of 
Worcester  were  elevated  in  the  peerage  to  the  duke- 
dom of  Beaufort. 


158  THE  WARS  OK  THE  ROSES. 

About  the  time  when  Somerset  perished  on  the 
scaffold,  the  Red  Rose  lost  a  chief,  scarcely  less  con- 
spicuous, by  the  death  of  Lord  de  Koos.  His  widow 
found  a  home  with  her  eldest  daughter,  the  wife  of 
Sir  Robert  Manners,  of  Etal ;  his  son  Edmund  es- 
caped to  the  Continent ;  and  his  Castle  of  Belvoir, 
inherited  through  an  ancestress  from  William  de  Al- 
bini,  was  granted  by  King  Edward  to  William  Has- 
tings, who,  since  Towton,  had  become  a  baron  of  the 
realm,  and  husband  of  Warwick's  sister,  Katherine 
Neville,  the  widow  of  Lord  Bonville,  slain  at  Wake- 
field.  Hastings  hurried  to  Leicestershire,  to  take 
possession  of  Belvoir ;  but  the  county,  faithful  to  the 
banished  De  Roos,  turned  out  under  an  esquire 
named  Harrington  and  compelled  the  Yorkist  lord 
to  fly.  Perceiving  that  to  hold  the  castle  under  such 
circumstances  would  be  no  easy  task,  Hastings  re- 
turned with  a  large  force,  spoiled  the  building,  and 
carried  off  the  leads  to  the  stately  pile  he  was  rear- 
ing at  Ashby  de  la  Zouch. 

The  Lord  Hungerford,  with  Sir  Humphrey  Nev- 
ille, and  William  Tailbois,  whom  the  Lancastrians 
called  Earl  of  Kent,  died,  like  Somerset,  on  the  scaf- 
fold. But  a  punishment  much  more  severe  was  add- 
ed in  the  case  of  Sir  Ralph  Grey.  This  unfortu- 
nate renegade,  when  found  in  the  Castle  of  Bam- 
burgh,  was  condemned,  ere  being  executed,  to  degra- 
dation from  the  rank  of  knighthood.  Every  thing 


AFTER  HEXHAM.  150 

was  prepared  for  the  ceremony ;  and  the  master 
cook,  with  his  apron  and  knife,  stood  ready  to  strike 
off  the  gilded  spurs  close  by  the  heels.  But  from 
respect  to  the  memory  of  the  knight's  grandfather, 
who  had  suffered  much  for  the  king's  ancestors,  this 
part  of  the  punishment  was  remitted. 

The  hopes  of  the  Lancastrians  could  hardly  have 
survived  so  signal  a  disaster  as  their  defeat  at  Hex- 
ham,  if  one  circumstance  had  not  rendered  the  vic- 
tory of  Montagu  incomplete.  Margaret  of  Anjou 
had,  as  if  by  miracle,  escaped ;  and,  while  she  was 
in  possession  of  life  and  liberty,  friends  and  adver- 
saries were  alike  conscious  that  no  battle,  however 
bravely  fought  or  decisively  won,  could  secure  the 
crown  or  assure  the  succession  to  the  house  of  York. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE   WOODVILLES. 

ABOUT  the  opening  of  1464,  Edward,  King  of 
England,  then  in  his  twenty-fourth  year,  was  divert- 
ing himself  with  the  pleasures  of  the  chase  in  the 
forest  of  Whittlebury. 

One  day,  when  hunting  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Grafton,  the  king  rode  to  that  manor-house  and 
alighted  to  pay  his  respects  to  Jacqueline,  Duchess 
of  Bedford.  The  visit  was,  perhaps,  not  altogether 
prompted  by  courtesy.  He  was  then  watching,  with 
great  suspicion,  the  movements  of  the  Lancastrians, 
and  he  probably  hoped  to  elicit  from  the  duchess, 
who  was  a  friend  of  Margaret  of  Anjou,  some  in- 
telligence as  to  the  intentions  of  the  faction  to  which 
she  belonged — forgetting,  by-the-by,  that  the  duchess 
was  a  woman  of  great  experience,  and  had  long 
since,  under  trying  circumstances,  learned  how  to 
make  words  conceal  her  thoughts. 

Jacqueline  of  Luxembourg,  a  daughter  of  the 
Count  of  St.  Pol,  Avhen  young,  lively,  and  beautiful, 
found  herself  given  in  marriage  to  John,  Duke  of 
Bedford.  John  was  a  famous  man,  doubtless,  but 
very  considerably  the  senior  of  his  bride  ;  and  when 


THE  DUCHESS  OF  BEDFORD.       161 

he  died  at  Rouen,  Jacqueline  probably  considered 
that,  in  any  second  matrimonial  alliance,  she  ought 
to  take  the  liberty  of  consulting  her  own  taste.  In 
any  case,  one  of  the  duke's  esquires,  Richard  Wood- 
ville  by  name,  was  appointed  to  escort  her  to  En- 
gland ;  and  he,  being  among  the  handsomest  men  in 
Europe,  made  such  an  impression  on  the  heart  of 
the  youthful  widow,  that  a  marriage  was  the  result. 
For  seven  long  years  their  union  was  kept  secret; 
but  at  length  circumstances  rendered  concealment 
impossible,  and  the  marriage  became  a  matter  of 
public  notoriety. 

The  discovery  that  the  widow  of  the  foremost 
prince  and  soldier  of  Europe  had  given  her  hand  to 
a  man  who  could  not  boast  of  a  patrician  ancestor 
or  a  patriotic  achievement  caused  much  astonish- 
ment, and  such  was  the  indignation  of  Jacqueline's 
own  kinsmen  that  Woodville  never  again  ventured 
to  show  his  face  on  the  Continent.  To  the  esquire 
and  the  duchess,  however,  the  consequences,  though 
inconvenient,  were  not  ruinous.  A  fine  of  a  thou- 
sand pounds  was  demanded  from  Woodville  ;  and, 
having  paid  that  sum,  he  was  put  in  possession  of 
Jacqueline's  castles. 

As  time  passed  on,  the  Duchess  of  Bedford,  as  "  a 

foreign  lady  of  quality,"  insinuated  herself  into  the 

good  graces  of  Margaret  of  Anjou  ;  and  Woodville 

was,  through  the  interest  of  his  wife,  created  a  baron. 

L 


162  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

About  the  same  period  their  eldest  daughter,  Eliza- 
beth, became  a  maid  of  honor  to  the  queen,  and, 
subsequently,  wife  of  John  Grey  of  Groby,  a  zealous 
Lancastrian,  who  died  after  the  second  battle  of  St. 
Albans.  Finding  herself  a  widow,  and  the  times 
being  troublous,  Elizabeth  placed  herself  under  the 
protection  of  her  mother  at  Grafton.  There  she 
was  residing  when  the  Yorkist  king  appeared  to  pay 
his  respects  to  the  duchess. 

Elizabeth  probably  regarded  Edward's  visit  as 
providential.  She  had  two  sons ;  and,  as  the  parti- 
sans of  York  were  by  no  means  in  a  humor  to  prac- 
tice excessive  leniency  to  the  vanquished,  the  heirs 
of  Grey  were  in  danger  of  losing  lands  and  living 
for  their  father's  adherence  to  the  Red  Rose.  Be- 
lieving that  she  had  now  a  capital  opportunity  of 
obtaining  the  removal  of  the  attainder,  she  resolved 
to  throw  herself  at  the  king's  feet  and  implore  his 
clemency. 

An  oak-tree  between  Grafton  and  Whittlebury 
Forest  has  since  been  indicated  by  tradition  as  the 
scene  of  Elizabeth  "Woodville's  first  interview  with 
Edward  of  York.  Standing  under  the  branches, 
holding  her  sons  by  the  hand,  and  casting  down  her 
eyes  with  an  affectation  of  extreme  modesty,  the 
artful  widow  succeeded  in  arresting  his  attention. 
Indeed,  there  was  little  chance  of  Edward  of  York 
passing  such  a  being  without  notice.  Elizabeth  was 


THE  KING'S  MARRIAGE.  163 

on  the  shady  side  of  thirty,  to  be  sure ;  but  time  had 
not  destroyed  the  charms  that,  fifteen  years  earlier, 
had  brought  suitors  around  the  portionless  maid  of 
honor.  Her  features  were  remarkable  for  regular- 
ity ;  her  complexion  was  fair  and  delicate,  and  her 
hair  of  that  pale  golden  hue  then  deemed  indispen- 
sable in  a  beauty  of  rank. 

Edward's  eye  was  arrested,  and,  being  in  the  fever 
of  youth,  with  a  heart  peculiarly  susceptible,  he  was 
captivated  by  the  fair  suppliant.  Too  young  and 
confident  to  believe  in  the  possibility  of  his  addresses 
being  rejected,  the  king  made  love,  though  not  in 
such  terms  as  please  the  ear  of  a  virtuous  woman. 
Elizabeth,  however,  conducted  herself  with  rare  dis- 
cretion, and  made  her  royal  lover  understand  that 
monarchs  sometimes  sigh  in  vain.  At  length  the 
duchess  took  the  matter  in  hand;  and,  under  the 
influence  of  a  tactician  so  expert,  the  enamored 
king  set  prudential  considerations  at  defiance,  and 
offered  to  take  the  young  widow  for  better  or  for 
worse.  A  secret  marriage  was  then  projected;  Jac- 
queline applied  her  energies  to  the  business ;  and, 
with  her  experience  of  matrimonial  affairs,  the 
duchess  found  no  difficulty  in  arranging  every  thing 
to  satisfaction. 

The  ceremony  was  fixed  for  the  1st  of  May,  and, 
since  privacy  was  the  object,  the  day  was  well  chosen. 
Indeed,  May-day  was  the  festival  which  people  re- 


164  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

garded  as  next  in  importance  to  Christmas ;  and 
they  were  too  much  taken  vip  with  its  celebration  to 
pry  into  the  secrets  of  others.  It  was  while  milk- 
maids, with  pyramids  of  silver  plate  on  their  heads, 
were  dancing  from  door  to  door,  and  every  body  was 
preparing  to  dance  round  the  maypole,  that  Edward 
secretly  met  his  bride  at  the  chapel  of  Grafton,  and 
solemnized  that  marriage  which  was  destined  to 
bring  such  evils  on  the  country.  As  the  duchess 
probably  suspected  that  it  was  not  the  first  time  the 
king  had  figured  as  a  bridegroom,  she  was  careful, 
in  the  event  of  any  dispute  arising,  to  provide  her- 
self with  other  witnesses  than  the  priest  and  the 
mass-boy.  With  this  view  she  brought  two  of  her 
waiting-women  ;  and  the  king,  having  gone  through 
the  ceremony,  took  his  departure  as  secretly  as  he 
came.  Ere  long,  however,  Edward  intimated  to  the 
father  of  the  bride  that  he  intended  to  spend  some 
time  with  him  at  Grafton  ;  and  Woodville,  who  still 
feigned  ignorance  of  the  marriage,  took  care  that  his 
royal  son-in-law  should  have  nothing  to  complain  of 
in  regard  to  the  entertainment. 

Having  thus  wedded  her  daughter  to  the  chief  of 
the  White  Rose,  the  Duchess  of  Bedford  converted 
her  husband  and  sons  from  violent  Lancastrians  into 
unscrupulous  Yorkists,  and  then  manifested  a  strong 
desire  to  have  the  marriage  acknowledged.  This 
was  a  most  delicate  piece  of  business,  and,  managed 


SIR  JOHN  HOWARD.  165 

clumsily,  might  have  cost  the  king  his  crown.  It 
happened,  however,  that  while  Edward,  in  the  shades 
of  Grafton,  had  forgotten  every  thing  that  he  ought 
to  have  remembered,  Montagu,  by  his  victory  at 
Hexharn,  had  so  firmly  established  Edward's  power 
that  the  king  deemed  himself  in  a  position  to  inflict 
signal  chastisement  on  any  one  venturesome  enough 
to  dispute  his  sovereign  will.  Nevertheless,  it  was 
thought  prudent  to  ascertain  the  feeling  of  the  na- 
tion before  taking  any  positive  step ;  and  agents 
were  employed  for  that  purpose. 

Warwick  and  Montagu  were  not,  of  course,  the 
men  for  this  kind  of  work.  The  chief  person  en- 
gaged in  the  inquiry,  indeed,  appears  to  have  been 
Sir  John  Howard,  a  knight  of  Norfolk,  whose  family 
had,  in  the  fourteenth  century,  been  raised  from  ob- 
scurity by  a  successful  lawyer,  and,  in  the  fifteenth, 
elevated  somewhat  higher  by  a  marriage  with  the 
Mowbrays,  about  the  time  when  the  chief  of  that 
great  house  was  under  attainder  and  in  exile. 
Howard,  inspired,  perhaps,  by  his  Mowbray  blood, 
cherished  an  ardent  ambition  to  enroll  his  name 
among  the  old  nobility  of  England ;  and,  to  get  one 
inch  nearer  the  gratification  of  his  vanity,  he  appears 
to  have  undertaken  any  task,  however  undignified. 
Even  on  this  occasion  he  was  not  by  any  means  too 
nice  for  the  duty  to  be  performed  ;  and  he  was  care- 
ful to  return  an  answer  likely  to  please  those  who 


166  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

were  most  interested.  Finding  that  the  Woodvilles 
were  rising  in  the  world,  he  reported,  to  their  satis- 
faction, that  the  people  were  well  disposed  in  regard 
to  the  king's  marriage.  At  the  same  time  the  aspir- 
ing knight  was  not  forgetful  of  his  own  interests. 
He  entreated  the  Woodvilles  to  obtain,  for  himself 
and  his  spouse,  places  in  the  new  queen's  household ; 
and,  by  way  of  securing  Elizabeth's  favor,  presented 
her  with  a  palfrey,  as  a  mark  of  his  devotion  to  her 
service.  What  dependence  was  to  be  placed  on  the 
faith  or  honor  of  Sir  John  Howard,  Elizabeth  Wood- 
ville  found  twenty  years  later,  when  her  hour  of 
trial  and  tribulation  came. 

And  now  Edward,  whose  fortunes  half  the  royal 
damsels  of  Europe,  among  others  Isabella  of  Castile, 
afterward  the  great  Queen  of  Spain,  were  eager  to 
share,  resolved  upon  declaring  his  marriage  to  the 
world ;  and,  with  that  purpose,  he  summoned  a  great 
council,  to  meet  at  the  Abbey  of  Reading,  in  the  au- 
tumn of  1464.  Having  there  presented  Elizabeth 
to  the  assembled  peers  as  their  queen,  he  ordered 
preparations  to  be  made  for  her  coronation  in  the 
ensuing  spring. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  king's  marriage  caused  se- 
rious discontent.  Warwick  and  Edward's  brother, 
the  young  Duke  of  Clarence,  in  particular,  expressed 
their  displeasure ;  the  barons  murmured  that  no  King 
of  England,  since  the  Conquest,  had  dared  to  many 


ELIZABETH'S  CORONATION.  167 

his  own  subject;  and  ladies  of  high  rank,  like  the 
Nevilles  and  De  Veres,  were,  in  no  slight  degree, 
indignant  at  having  set  over  them  one  whom  they 
had  been  accustomed  to  consider  an  inferior.  At 
the  same  time,  the  multitude,  far  from  regarding  the 
marriage  with  the  favor  which  Sir  John  Howard 
had  led  the  "Woodvilles  to  believe,  raised  the  cry 
that  the  Duchess  of  Bedford  was  a  witch,  and  that 
it  was  under  the  influence  of  the  "  forbidden  spells" 
she  practiced  that  the  young  king  had  taken  the  fatal 
step  of  espousing  her  daughter. 

But  nobody  was  more  annoyed  at  Edward's  mar- 
riage than  his  own  mother,  Cicely,  Duchess  of  York, 
who,  in  other  days,  had  been  known  in  the  north  as 
"  The  Hose  of  Raby,"  and  who  now  maintained 
great  state  at  Baynard's  Castle.  From  the  begin- 
ning, Elizabeth  found  no  favor  in  the  eyes  of  her 
mother-in-law.  With  the  beauty  of  the  Nevilles, 
Cicely  inherited  a  full  share  of  their  pride  ;  and,  in 
her  husband's  lifetime,  she  had  assumed  something 
like  regal  state.  To  such  a  woman  an  alliance  with 
third-rate  Lancastrians  was  mortifying,  and  she  bit- 
terly reproached  her  son  with  the  folly  of  the  step 
he  had  taken.  Moreover,  she  upbraided  him  with 
faithlessness  to  another  lady;  but  Edward  treated 
the  matter  with  characteristic  recklessness.  "  Mad- 
am," said  he,  "  for  your  objection  of  bigamy,  by 
GOD'S  Blessed  Lady,  let  the  bishop  lay  it  to  my 


169  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

charge  when  I  come  to  take  orders ;  for  I  under- 
stand it  is  forbidden  to  a  priest,  though  I  never  wist 
it  was  forbidden  to  a  prince." 

Not  insensible,  however,  to  the  sneers  of  which 
Elizabeth  was  the  object,  Edward  determined  on 
proving  to  his  subjects  that  his  bride  was,  after  all, 
of  royal  blood,  and  therefore  no  unfit  occupant  of  a 
throne.  With  this  purpose  he  entreated  Charles 
the  Rash,  Count  of  Charolois,  and  heir  of  Burgundy, 
to  send  her  uncle,  James  of  Luxembourg,  to  the 
coronation.  The  count,  it  appears,  had  never  ac- 
knowledged the  existence  of  the  Duchess  of  Bedford 
since  her  second  marriage ;  but,  on  hearing  of  the 
position  Jacqueline's  daughter  had  attained,  his  sen- 
timents as  to  the  Woodville  alliance  underwent  a 
complete  change,  and  he  promised  to  take  part  in 
the  coronation. 

Faithful  to  his  promise,  the  count  appeared  in 
England  with  a  magnificent  retinue ;  and  his  niece 
was  brought  from  the  palace  of  Eltham,  conducted 
in  great  state  through  the  city  of  London,  and  crown- 
ed, with  much  pomp,  at  Westminster.  Hardly,  how- 
ever, had  Elizabeth  Woodville  been  invested  with 
the  symbols  of  royalty,  than  she  found  the  crown  sit 
uneasily  on  her  head.  The  efforts  made  to  render 
King  Edward's  marriage  popular  had  failed.  Even 
the  presence  of  a  Count  of  Luxembourg  had  not  pro- 
duced the  effect  anticipated.  Still  the  old  barons 


THE  QUEEN'S  KLNDREU.  169 

of  England  grumbled  fiercely  ;  and  still  the  people 
continued  to  denounce  the  Duchess  of  Bedford  as  a 
sorceress  who  had  bewitched  the  king  into  marrying 
her  daughter.  Ere  long,  this  widow  of  a  Lancas- 
trian knight,  when  sharing  the  throne  of  the  York- 
ist king,  found  that,  with  the  White  Rose,  she  had 
plucked  the  thorn. 

The  new  queen  conducted  herself  in  such  a  way 
as  rapidly  to  increase  the  prejudices  of  the  nation. 
After  her  marriage  she  too  frequently' reminded  peo- 
ple of  the  school  in  which  she  had  studied  the  func- 
tions of  royalty.  Indeed,  Elizabeth  Woodville,  when 
elevated  to  a  throne,  assumed  a  tone  which  great 
queens  like  Eleanor  of  Castile  and  Philippa  of  Hai- 
nault  would  never  have  dreamed  of  using.  Chari- 
tably inclined  as  the  patrician  ladies  of  England 
might  be,  they  could  hardly  help  remarking  that 
Margaret  of  Anjou's  maid  of  honor  did  credit  to  the 
training  of  her  mistress. 

The  people  of  England  might  have  learned  to 
bear  much  from  Edward's  wife  ;  but,  unfortunate- 
ly, the  queen  was  intimately  associated  in  the  pub- 
lic mind  with  the  rapacity  of  her  "  kindred."  Eliza- 
beth's father,  Richard  Woodville,  was  created  Earl 
Rivers,  and  appointed  Treasurer  of  England ;  and 
she  had  numerous  brothers  and  sisters,  for  all  of 
whom  fortunes  had  to  be  provided.  Each  of  the 
sisters  was  married  to  a  noble  husband — Katherine, 


170  THE  WARS  UK  THE  ROSES. 

the  youngest,  to  Henry  Stafford,  the  boy-Duke  of 
Buckingham  ;  and  for  each  of  the  brothers  an  heir- 
ess to  high  titles  and  great  estates  had  to  be  found. 
Unfortunately,  while  the  Woodvilles  were  pursuing 
their  schemes  of  family  aggrandizement,  their  inter- 
ests clashed  with  those  of  two  powerful  and  popular 
personages.  These  were  the  Duchess  of  York  and 
the  Earl  of  Warwick. 

Among  the  old  nobility  of  England,  whose  names 
are  chronicled  "by  Dugdale,  the  Lord  Scales  occupied 
an  eminent  position.  At  an  early  period  they  grant- 
ed lands  to  religious  houses  and  made  pilgrimages 
to  the  Holy  Land,  and  in  later  days  fought  with  the 
Plantagenet  kings  in  the  wars  of  Scotland  and 
France.  The  last  chief  of  the  name,  who,  after 
Northampton,  suffered  for  his  fidelity  to  the  house 
of  Lancaster,  left  no  sons.  One  daughter,  however, 
survived  him ;  and  this  lady,  having  been  married  to 
a  younger  son  of  the  Earl  of  Essex,  was  now  a  wid- 
ow, twenty-four  years  of  age,  and  one  of  the  richest 
heiresses  in  England. 

Upon  the  heiress  of  Scales,  Elizabeth  Woodville 
and  the  Duchess  of  York  both  set  their  hearts.  The 
Duchess  wished  to  many  the  Avealthy  widow  to  her 
son  George,  Duke  of  Clarence  ;  and  the  queen  was 
not  less  anxious  to  bestow  the  young  lady's  hand  on 
her  brother,  Anthony  Woodville,  who  was  one  of 
the  most  accomplished  gentlemen  of  the  age.  The 


THE  HEIRESS  OF  THE  HOLLANDS.  171 

contest  between  the  mother-in-law  and  the  daugh- 
ter-in-law was,  doubtless,  keen.  The  queen,  how- 
ever, carried  her  point ;  and  the  duchess  retreat- 
ing, baffled  and  indignant,  wrapped  herself  up  in  cold 
hauteur. 

Of  all  the  English  heiresses  of  that  day,  the  great- 
est, perhaps,  was  the  daughter  of  the  Duke  and 
Duchess  of  Exeter.  The  duke,  having  fought  at 
Towton  and  Hexham  for  the  Red  Eose,  was  now 
braving  poverty  and  exile  for  the  house  of  Lancas- 
ter ;  but  the  duchess  had  not  deemed  it  necessary 
to  make  any  such  sacrifice.  Being  a  daughter  of 
the  Duke  of  York,  she  remained  quietly  at  the  court 
of  King  Edward,  her  brother,  and,  while  enjoying 
the  estates  of  her  banished  husband,  acquired  the 
right  to  dispose  of  his  daughter's  hand. 

The  heiress  of  the  Hollands  was,  of  course,  a  prize 
much  coveted ;  and  Warwick  thought  her  hand  so 
desirable,  that  he  solicited  her  in  marriage  for  his 
nephew,  young  George  Neville,  the  son  of  Lord 
Montagu.  The  queen,  however,  was  determined  to 
obtain  this  heiress  for  her  eldest  son,  Thomas  Grey, 
who  had  been  created  Marquis  of  Dorset.  The 
Duchess  of  Exeter  was,  accordingly,  dealt  with,  and 
in  such  a  fashion  that  the  earl  was  disappointed, 
while  the  queen  congratulated  her  son  on  having 
obtained  a  bride  worthy  of  the  rank  to  which  he 
had  been  elevated. 


172  THE  WARS  Or  THE  ROSES. 

Warwick  was  nephew  of  the  Duchess  of  York, 
and  both  had  already  a  grievance  of  which  to  com- 
plain. They  were  now  to  have  their  family  pride 
wounded  in  a  manner  which,  to  souls  so  haughty, 
must  have  been  well-nigh  intolerable. 

Long  ere  the  Wars  of  the  Roses  were  thought  of, 
Katharine  Neville,  elder  sister  of  the  proud  duchess, 
and  aunt  of  "  The  Stout  Earl,"  was  espoused  by 
John  Mowbray,  Duke  of  Norfolk.  The  duke  de- 
parted this  life  in  1433,  and  Katherine  gave  her 
hand  to  an  esquire  named  Strangways.  When  time 
passed  on,  and  Strangways  died,  she  consoled  her- 
self with  a  third  husband  in  the  person  of  Viscount 
Beaumont.  The  viscount  went  the  way  the  duke 
and  the  esquire  had  gone,  and  Katherine  found  her- 
self a  third  time  a  widow.  But  the  dowager  had 
buried  her  share  of  husbands ;  she  had  passed  the 
age  of  eighty ;  and  as  to  a  fourth  dash  at  matri- 
mony, that  was  surely  a  subject  which  could  never 
have  entered  into  her  head. 

The  Woodvilles  were  aware  of  the  existence  of 
the  old  Duchess  of  Norfolk,  and  knew  that  the  ven- 
erable dame  was  rich ;  and  the  queen's  youngest 
brother  remained  to  be  provided  for.  Setting  de- 
cency at  defiance,  they  resolved  upon  a  match ;  and 
though  the  wealthy  dowager  had  considerably  passed 
the  age  of  fourscore,  and  John  Woodville  had  just 
emerged  from  his  teens,  a  marriage  was  solemnized. 


THE  OLD  DUCHESS  OF  NORFOLK.     173 

The  nation  was  deeply  disgusted  with  the  avarice 
manifested  on  this  occasion.  Even  Sir  John  How- 
ard must  now  have  confessed  that  the  king's  alli- 
ance with  the  Woodvilles  was  not  quite  so  satisfac- 
tory to  the  people  as  he  had  predicted.  The  clamor 
raised  was  too  loud  and  general  to  be  either  disre- 
garded or  suppressed.  The  Nevilles  must  have 
writhed  under  the  ridicule  to  which  their  aged 
kinswoman  was  exposed ;  other  adherents  of  the 
White  Rose  must  have  blushed  for  the  disgrace  re- 
flected on  Edward  of  York  from  his  wife's  family ; 
and  the  Lancastrian  exiles,  wearing  threadbare  gar- 
ments and  bearing  fictitious  names,  as  they  climbed 
narrow  stairs  and  consumed  meagre  fare  in  the  rich 
cities  of  Flanders,  must  have  felt  hope  and  taken 
heart,  when  to  their  ears  came  tidings  of  the  shout 
of  indignation  which  all  England  was  raising  against 
the  new  "  queen's  kindred." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE   LANCASTRIANS    IN    EXILE. 

Ox  that  day  when  Lord  Montagu  inflicted  so  se- 
vere a  defeat  on  the  Lancastrians  at  Hexham,  and 
while  the  shouts  of  victory  rose  and  swelled  with 
the  breeze,  a  lady  of  thirty-five,  but  still  possession 
great  personal  attractions,  accompanied  by  a  boy 
just  entering  his  teens,  fled  for  safety  into  a  forest 
which  then  extended  over  the  district,  and  was 
known  far  and  wide  as  a  den  of  outlaws.  The 
lady  was  Margaret  of  Anjou ;  the  boy  was  Edward 
of  Lancaster;  and,  unfortunately  for  them,  under 
the  circumstances,  the  dress  and  appearance  of  the 
royal  fugitives  marked  them  too  plainly  as  person- 
ages of  the  highest  rank. 

While  treading  the  forest  path  with  a  tremulous 
haste,  which  indicated  some  apprehension  of  pursuit, 
Margaret  and  her  son  suddenly  found  themselves 
face  to  face  with  a  band  of  ferocious  robbers.  The 
bandits  were  far  from  paying  any  respect  to  the 
queen's  rank  or  sex.  Having  seized  her  jewels  and 
other  valuables,  they  dragged  her  forcibly  before  the 
chief  of  the  gang,  held  a  drawn  sword  before  her 
eyes,  and  menaced  her  with  instant  death.  Mar- 


THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  OUTLAW.     175 

garet  besought  them  to  spare  her  life,  but  her  pray- 
ers and  tears  had  no  effect  whatever  in  melting  their 
hearts  ;  and  they  appeared  on  the  point  of  carrying 
their  threats  into  execution,  when,  luckily,  they  fell 
to  wrangling  over  the  partition  of  the  spoil,  and, 
ere  long,  took  to  settling  the  dispute  by  strength  of 
hand. 

Alarmed,  as  Margaret  well  might  be,  she  did  not 
lose  her  presence  of  mind.  No  sooner  did  she  ob- 
serve the  bandits  fighting  among  themselves  than 
she  looked  around  for  a  way  of  escape ;  and,  seizing 
a  favorable  opportunity,  she  hurried  her  son  into  a 
thicket  which  concealed  them  from  view.  Pursu- 
ing their  way  till  the  shades  of  evening  closed  over 
the  forest,  the  royal  fugitives,  faint  from  fatigue  and 
want  of  food,  seated  themselves  under  an  oak-tree, 
and  bewailed  their  fate. 

No  wonder  that,  at  such  moments  of  desolation 
and  distress,  the  Lancastrian  queen  felt  a  temptation 
to  rid  herself  of  a  life  which  misfortune  made  so  mis- 
erable. Even  the  heroic  spirit  of  Margaret  might 
have  given  way  under  circumstances  so  depressing 
as  those  in  which  she  was  now  placed.  But  a  new 
and  unexpected  danger  occurred  to  recall  her  to  en- 
ergy while  indulging  in  those  pensive  reflections; 
for,  as  the  moon  began  to  shine  through  the  branches 
of  the  trees,  she  suddenly  became  aware  of  the  ap- 
proach of  an  armed  man  of  huge  stature.  At  first 


176  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES 

she  was  under  the  impression  that  he  was  one  of  the 
robbers  from  whom  she  had  already  experienced 
treatment  so  cruel,  and  gave  herself  up  for  lost; 
but  seeing,  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  that  his  dress 
and  appearance  were  quite  different,  she  breathed  a 
prayer,  and  resolved  upon  a  great  effort  to  save  her- 
self and  her  son. 

Margaret  knew  that  escape  was  impossible.  She, 
therefore,  made  no  attempt  at  flight ;  but,  rising,  she 
took  her  son  by  the  hand,  advanced  to  meet  the  man, 
explained  in  pathetic  language  the  distress  in  which 
she  was,  and,  as  a  Avoman  and  a  princess,  claimed 
his  protection.  "  It  is  the  unfortunate  Queen  of 
England,"  said  Margaret,  "who  has  fallen  into  your 
hands ;"  and  then,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word, 
she  added  in  accents  not  to  be  resisted,  "  There, 
my  friend,  I  commit  to  your  care  the  safety  of  your 
king's  son." 

The  queen  had  taken  a  bold  course,  but  she  had 
correctly  calculated  the  effect  of  her  appeal.  Her 
courage  and  presence  of  mind  had  saved  her.  The 
generosity  of  the  outlaw  prevailed ;  and,  touched 
with  the  confidence  reposed  in  him,  he  threw  him- 
self at  Margaret's  feet,  and  vowed  to  do  all  in  his 
power  to  save  the  mother  and  the  son.  Having 
once  promised,  the  man  of  the  forest  kept  his  word 
with  a  loyalty  that  his  betters  might  have  envied. 
He  conducted  the  fugitives  to  his  dwelling  in  a 


MARGARET'S  APPEAL  TO  SCOTLAND.   179 

rock,  which  is  still  shown  as  "  The  Queen's  Cave," 
instructed  his  wife  to  do  every  thing  that  would  tend 
to  their  comfort,  and  promised  to  discover  for  them 
the  means  of  escape. 

Leaving  Margaret  and  her  son  in  his  cave,  the 
mouth  of  which  was  protected  by  the  bank  of  a  riv- 
ulet, and  screened  from  view  by  brushwood,  the  out- 
law went  to  inquire  after  such  of  her  friends  as  had 
escaped  the  carnage  of  Ilexham.  More  fortunate 
than  could  have  been  expected,  he  met  Sir  Peter 
Breze,  who  was  wandering  about  looking  for  the 
queen,  and,  soon  after,  Breze  found  the  Duke  of 
Exeter,  who  had  concealed  himself  in  a  neighboring 
village,  and,  with  the  duke,  Edmund  Beaufort,  who 
had  now,  by  the  death  of  his  brother  on  the  scaffold, 
become  head  of  the  house  of  Somerset.  With  these 
noblemen,  Margaret  and  the  prince  went  secretly  to 
Carlisle,  and  there,  with  the  assistance  of  the  gener- 
ous outlaw,  embarked  for  Kirkcudbright, 

Margaret,  on  reaching  Scotland,  visited  Edinburgh 
to  make  another  appeal  to  the  government,  but  was 
not  successful  in  obtaining  farther  aid.  In  fact,  al- 
though the  matrimonial  negotiations  between  Mary 
of  Gucldres  and  Edward  of  York  had  come  to 
naught,  the  Scottish  government  was  now  utterly 
hostile  to  the  interests  of  Lancaster.  The  Duke 
of  Burgundy,  hereditary  foe  of  Margaret,  had  sent 
Louis  do  Bruges,  one  of  his  noblemen,  as  embassa- 


180  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

dor  to  the  Scottish  court,  and  contrived  to  make  the 
regency  play  false,  repudiate  the  marriage  between 
the  Prince  of  Wales  and  the  Princess  of  Scotland, 
and  conclude  a  treaty  with  the  new  King  of  En- 
gland. 

The  Lancastrians  now  perceived  that  for  the  pres- 
ent action  was  impossible,  and  exile  inevitable.  Even 
in  France  their  influence  had  diminished  ;  for,  since 
Margaret's  visit  to  Paris,  Mary  of  Anjou,  her  aunt 
and  the  mother  of  Louis,  had  died  ;  and  less  inclina- 
tion than  ever  felt  the  crafty  king  to  make  sacrifices 
for  his  fiery  kinswoman.  Margaret,  therefore,  yield- 
ed to  fate,  and,  not  without  vowing  vengeance  on 
Burgundy,  submitted  to  the  harsh  necessity  of  once 
more  returning  to  the  Continent.  AVith  this  view, 
she  repaired  to  Bamburgh,  which  was  still  held  by 
Lancastrians,  and  with  her  son,  and  Sir  Peter  Breze, 
and  seven  ladies,  she  embarked  for  France. 

It  was  summer,  but  notwithstanding  the  season 
the  weather  proved  unpropitious,  and  the  unfortu- 
nate queen,  driven  by  adverse  winds,  was  under  the 
necessity  of  putting  into  a  port  belonging  to  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy.  Enemy  of  her  father  as  the 
duke  was,  Margaret  determined  upon  seeing  him, 
and,  suppressing  all  feelings  of  delicacy,  she  dispatch- 
ed a  messenger  to  demand  an  interview. 

The  house  of  Burgundy,  like  that  of  Anjou,  de- 
rived descent  from  the  kings  of  France,  but  had  been 


THE  DUKE  OF  BURGUNDY.  181 

blessed  with  far  fairer  fortunes.  About  ]360,  on 
the  death  of  Philip  de  Rouvre,  the  dukedom,  having 
reverted  to  the  crown,  was  bestowed  by  King  John 
on  his  fourth  son,  Philip  the  Bold.  Philip  played 
his  cards  well.  AVhile  his  brother  Charles  was 
struggling  with  the  English,  he  became  an  independ- 
ent prince  by  espousing  the  heiress  of  Flanders  ;  and 
his  son,  John  the  F'earless,  played  a,  conspicuous 
part  in  those  civil  commotions  that  preceded  the 
battle  of  Agincourt.  The  son  of  John,  known  as 
Philip  the  Good,  affected  greater  state  than  any 
prince  of  his  age,  and  instituted  the  order  of  the 
Golden  Fleece  to  mark  the  splendor  of  his  reign. 

Philip's  first  wife  was  Michelle,  daughter  of  the 
King  of  France,  and  sister  of  Katherine  de  Valois. 
His  second  wife  was  Isabel  of  Portugal,  a  grand- 
daughter of  John  of  Gaunt.  The  good  duke  was, 
therefore,  nearly  and  doubly  connected  with  the 
house  of  Lancaster.  Unfortunately,  however,  Philip 
had  proved  an  enemy  of  King  Rene  ;  and  Margaret, 
who  from  infancy  had  cherished  a  bitter  hatred  to- 
ward the  house  of  Burgundy,  was  reputed  to  have 
vowed  that  if  ever  the  duke  was  at  her  mercy  the 
executioner's  axe  should  pass  between  his  head  and 
his  shoulders.  Such  having  been  the  language  held 
by  the  queen,  it  is  not  wonderful  that  (he  duke, 
while  receiving  her  message  with  politeness,  should 
have  pleaded  sickness  as  an  excuse  for  not  granting 
her  a  personal  interview. 


182  THK   WAKS  OK  THE   RUSES 

.Margaret  was  in  no  mood  to  be  satisfied  with  ex- 
cuses. She  hud  expressed  her  intention  of  set  ing 
the  duke,  and  was  determined  to  accomplish  her 
purpose.  She  was  hardly  in  a  condition,  indeed,  to 
pay  a  royal  visit,  for  her  purse  was  empty,  and  her 
wardrobe  reduced  to  the  smallest  compass.  But, 
scorning  to  be  subdued  by  fortune,  the  queen  hired 
a  cart  covered  with  canvas,  and,  leaving  her  son  at 
.Bruges,  commenced  her  progress  to  St.  Pol,  where 
the  duke  was  then  residing.  It  was  about  the  time 
when  Margaret,  dressed  in  threadbare  garments,  was 
traveling  from  Bruges  to  St.  Pol  in  a  covered  cart, 
that,  in  the  Abbey  of  Heading,  her  maid  of  honor, 
Elizabeth  Woodville,  was  presented  to  peers  and 
prelates  as  Queen  of  England. 

While  pursuing  her  journey,  with  a  spirit  of  hero- 
ism which  set  outward  circumstances  at  defiance, 
.Margaret  was  met  by  Charles  the  Gash,  that  imper- 
sonation of  feudal  pride,  whose  exploits  against  the 
Swiss,  when  Duke  of  Burgundy,  have  been  cele- 
brated by  Sir  Walter  Scott.  Charles,  at  this  time, 
had  hardly  passed  the  age  of  thirty,  and,  as  son  and 
heir  of  Philip  the  Good,  with  whom  he  was  then  at 
enmity,  bore  the  title  of  Count  of  Charolois.  As 
the  son  of  Isabel  of  Portugal,  and  great-grandson  of 
John  of  Gaunt,  the  count  had  always  declared  him- 
self friendly  to  the  house  of  Lancaster,  and  he  now 
manifested  his  sympathy  by  treating  Margaret  with 


MARGARET  AM)  BURGUNDY.  IS} 

chivalrous  respect.  Moreover,  on  being  made  aware 
of  her  extreme  poverty,  Charolois  presented  her  with 
five  hundred  crowns  ;  and  Burgundy,  hearing  of  the 
landing  of  English  forces  at  Calais,  pent  a  body  of 
his  archers  to  escort  her  from  Bethune  to  St.  Pol. 
Having,  after  her  interview  with  Churolois,  pursued 
her  way  toward  Bethune,  and  escaped  some  English 
horsemen  who  lay  in  wait  to  arrest  her,  she  reached 
St.  Pol  in  safety. 

Duke  Phiui)  did  not  immediately  grant  Margaret 
an  interview.  After  some  delay,  however,  he  in- 
dulged her  wish ;  and,  touched  with  compassion  at 
the  sight  of  a  great  queen  reduced  to  a  plight  so 
hapless,  entertained  her  with  princely  courtesy,  and 
treated  her  with  all  the  honors  due  to  royalty. 
Having  listened  to  the  story  of  Margaret's  woes,  he 
gave  her  two  thousand  crowns  of  gold,  and  advised 
her  to  await  events  with  patience.  As  Margaret 
parted  from  the  duke  her  heart  melted,  and  she  shed 
tears  as  she  bade  adieu  to  the  old  man  whom  she 
had  threatened  to  behead  as  she  had  done  York  and 
Salisbury.  Perhaps  on  that  occasion  she,  for  one 
of  the  first  times  in  her  life,  felt  something  like  re- 
morse. "The  queen,"  says  Monstrelet,  "repented 
much  and  thought  herself  unfortunate  that  she  had 
not  sooner  thrown  herself  on  the  protection  of  the 
noble  Duke  of  Burgundy,  as  her  affairs  would  prob- 
ably have  prospered  better." 


l-l  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Having  returned  to  Bruges,  and  been  joined  by 
the  Prince  of  Wales.  Margaret  paid  a  visit  to  the 
Count  of  Charolois.  Never  were  royal  exiles  more 
royally  treated.  The  count  exhibited  a  degree  of 
delicacy  and  generosity  Avorthy  of  an  earlier  era ; 
and,  indeed,  Avas  so  deferential,  that  the  Piinfo  of 
Wales,  who  had  known  little  of  royalty  but  its  perils 
and  misfortunes,  could  not  refrain  from  expressing 
his  surprise. 

"  These  honors,"  said  the  boy,  ';  are  not  due  from 
you  to  us  ;  neither  in  your  father's  dominions  should 
precedence  be  given  to  persons  so  destitute  as  we 
are." 

"  Unfortunate  though  you  be,"  answered  the 
count,  "you  are  the  son  of  the  King  of  England, 
Avhile  I  am  only  the  son  of  a  ducal  sovereign ;  and 
that  is  not  so  high  a  rank." 

Leaving  Bruges  with  her  son,  Margaret  Avas  es- 
corted to  Barr  Avith  all  the  honor  due  to  the  royal 
rank.  At  Barr,  the  exiled  queen  was  met  and  Avel- 
comed  by  her  father,  King  Rene,  \vlio  gave  her  an 
old  castle  in  Verdun  as  a  residence  till  better  days 
should  come.  Thither  Margaret  Avent  to  establish 
her  little  court ;  and  thither,  to  be  educated  in  the 
accomplishments  in  fashion  at  the  period,  she  car- 
ried the  young  prince  around  Avhom  all  her  hopes 
now  clustered. 

Two  hundred  Lancastrians  of  name  and  reputa 


THE  EXILES.  185 

tion  shared  the  exile  of  Margaret  of  Anjou.  Among 
these  were  Lord  Kendal,  a  Gascon ;  the  Bishop  of 
St.  Asapli,  the  young  Lord  De  Roos  and  his  kins- 
man, Sir  Henry;  John  Courtenay,  younger  brother 
of  Devon's  Earl ;  Edmund  Beaufort,  the  new  Duke 
of  Somerset,  and  his  brother  John,  whom  the  Lan- 
castrians called  Marquis  of  Dorset ;  Henry  Holland, 
Duke  of  Exeter — always,  notwithstanding  his  rela- 
tionship to  Edward,  faithful  to  the  Red  Rose  ;  Jas- 
per Tudor,  who  clung  to  Lancaster  as  if  with  a  pro- 
phetic notion  that  with  the  fortunes  of  the  house 
were  associated  those  of  his  own  family  ;  John  Mor- 
ton, Parson  of  Blokesworth,  whose  talents  subse- 
quently made  him  a  cardinal  and  an  archbishop ; 
and  Sir  John  Fortescue,  Chief  Justice  of  England, 
one  of  the  most  upright  judges  who  ever  wore  the 
ermine.  Such  rnen,  when  the  fortunes  of  the  house 
of  Lancaster  were  at  their  worst,  were  prepared  to 
suffer  poverty  and  want  in  Henry's  cause. 

The  banished  queen  could  ill  brook  the  obscurity 
of  Verdun.  It  soon  appeared  that,  notwithstanding 
so  many  disheartening  reverses,  Margaret  retained 
her  courage  unimpaired  ;  and  that  want,  disappoint- 
ment, mortification,  had  been  unable  to  break  her 
spirit  or  conquer  her  ambition.  Hardly  had  the 
court  of  the  exiles  been  formed  at  Verdun,  when  the 
queen  renewed  her  efforts  to  regain  the  crown  which 
she  had  already  found  so  thorny. 


IM;  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSKS 

At  that  time  Alphonso  the  Fifth  reigned  in  Por- 
tugal ;  ami  Portugal  was  rich,  o-.ving  lo  tlie  quan- 
tity of  gold  yearly  brought  from  (luinca.  More- 
ox  or.  King  Alphonso  was  a  remarkable  man.  In 
hi-  fiery  nature  were  blended  all  the  elements  of 
love,  chivalry,  and  religion;  and  though  living  in 
the  fifteenth  century  he  resembled  a  paladin  of  the 
age  of  Roland  and  Oliver.  Through  hi-  grand- 
mother, Philippa,  of  Lancaster,  Alphonso  inherited 
the  blood  of  John  of  Gaunt;  and  i:  was  supposed 
that  he  would  naturally  feel  much  of  that  sympathy 
for  the  house  of  Lancaster  which  had  been  ever  ex- 
pressed by  the  Count  of  Charolois. 

Accordingly,  Margaret  turned  her  eyes  toward 
Portugal  for  aid,  and  employed  John  Butler,  Earl 
of  Ormond,  to  enlist  Alphonso  in  her  cause.  Or- 
mond,  who,  upon  the  execution  of  his  brother,  the 
Earl  of  Wiltshire,  after  Towton,  had  become  the 
chief  of  the  Butlers,  was  one  of  the  most  accom- 
plished gentlemen  of  his  nge,  and  a  master  of  the 
various  languages  then  spoken  in  Europe.  No  fit- 
ter embassador  could  have  been  found ;  but  he  was 
not  successful.  In  fact,  although  Alphonso  was  all 
his  life  engaged  in  chimerical  enterprises,  he  could 
hardly  have  indulged  in  the  delusion  of  being  able 
to  wrest  a  crown  from  Edward  Plantagenet  and 
Richard  Neville.  Not  even  that  knight-errant 
would  risk  reputation  against  such  odds.  At  all 


ALPHONSO  OF  PORTUGAL.        187 

events  the  negotiation  appears  to  have  come  to 
naught ;  and  Ormonil,  doubtless,  convinced  that  the 
fortunes  of  Lancaster  were  hopeless,  returned  to 
England,  and  made  his  submission.  Edward  re- 
stored the  accomplished  nobleman  to  the  honors 
and  estates  of  the  Butlers,  with  a  complimentary 
remark.  "  If  good-breeding  and  liberal  qualities," 
said  the  king,  "  were  lost  in  all  the  world,  they 
w\Hild  still  be  found  in  the  Earl  of  Ormond." 

About  the  time  when  Ormond's  mission  failed, 
Margaret  received  intelligence  that  her  husband  had 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  her  enemies.  Finding,  per- 
haps, that  Scottish  hospitality  was  hard  to  bear, 
Henry,  about  a  year  after  Hexham,  removed  to  the 
north  of  England,  and  in  July,  1465,  while  sitting 
at  dinner  in  Waddington  Hall,  he  was  seized  by  Sir 
John  Harrington,  and  sent  prisoner  to  London.  At 
Islington  the  captive  king  was  met  by  Warwick, 
who  lodged  him  securely  in  the  Tower ;  and  Henry, 
treated  with  humanity,  forgot,  in  the  practice  of  a 
monkish  devotion,  the  crown  he  had  lost  and  the 
world  he  had  left. 

The  captivity  of  their  king  was  not  the  only  mis- 
fortune which,  at  this  period,  befell  the  Lancastrians. 
In  14G7,  Harleck  Castle,  their  last  strong-hold,  was 
under  the  necessity  of  yielding.  Davydd  ap  Jefan 
ap  Einion  held  out  to  the  last ;  but  when  the  garri- 
son was  on  the  point  of  starvation,  the  brave  Welsh 


188  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

captain  listened  to  the  dictates  of  humanity,  and  sur- 
rendered with  honor. 

Even  after  the  fall  of  Harleck,  Margaret's  high 
spirit  sustained  her  hopes.  In  1467,  she  is  under- 
stood to  have  come  to  London,  disguised  as  a  priest, 
to  rouse  her  partisans  to  action,  and  even  to  have 
had  an  interview  with  her  husband  in  the  Tower. 
Next  year  she  sent  Jasper  Tudor  to  Wales ;  and  he 
laid  siege  to  Denbigh.  King  Edward  himself  was 
in  the  castle,  and  the  utmost  peril  of  being  taken 
prisoner.  He  contrived  to  escape,  however;  and 
the  fortress  surrendered.  But  a  Yorkist  named 
William  Herbert  went  with  an  army,  and  inflicted 
such  a  defeat  on  Jasper  that  he  was  fain  to  escape 
to  the  Continent.  Nevertheless,  in  October,  Mar- 
garet lay  at  Ilarfleur  threatening  an  invasion.  Ed- 
ward, however,  sent  his  brother-in-law,  Anthony 
Woodville,  who  now,  in  right  of  his  wife,  figured  as 
Lord  Scales,  to  attack  the  fleet  of  his,  old  patroness; 
and  the  exiled  queen,  seeing  no  chance  of  success, 
abandoned  her  expedition  in  despair. 

But  even  in  despair  Margaret  could  show  herself 
heroic  and  sublime.  Thus,  when  some  of  her  Con- 
tinental kinsfolk  were,  in  a  vulgar  spirit,  lamenting 
her  unfortunate  marriage,  and  describing  h?r  union 
with  the  unhappy  Henry  as  the  cause  of  all  her  mis- 
fortune, she  raised  her  head  with  regal  pride,  and 
contemptuously  rebuked  their  foolish  talk.  "On  the 
day  of  my  betrothal."  exclaimed  she,  with  poetic 


MARGARET  AT  VERDUN  189 

eloquence,  "  when  I  accepted  the  Rose  of  England, 
I  knew  that  I  must  wear  the  rose  entire  and  with 
all  its  thorns." 

In  the  midst  of  adversity  the  exiled  queen  had 
one  consolation.  Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  was  a 
son  of  whom  any  mother  might  have  been  proud, 
and  day  by  day  he  grew  more  accomplished  in  the 
warlike  exercises  of  the  age.  Nor,  though  in  al- 
most hopeless  adversity,  did  the  prince  lack  instruc- 
tion in  weightier  matters ;  for  Fortescue  undertook 
the  task  of  educating  the  banished  heir  of  Lan- 
caster, endeavored  so  to  form  the  mind  of  the  royal 
boy  as  to  enable  him  to  enact  in  after  years  the  part 
of  a  patriot-king,  and  compiled  for  his  pupil  the  "JDe 
Laudibus  Legurn  Anglia:;"  a  work  explaining  the 
laws  of  England,  and  suggesting  the  improvements 
that  might  with  advantage  be  introduced. 

Five  years  of  exile  passed  over ;  and  during  that 
time  every  attempt  of  the  Lancastrians  to  better  their 
position  proved  disastrous.  It  was  when  matters 
were  at  the  worst — when  the  Red  Rose  had  dis- 
appeai-ed,  and  the  Red  Rose-tree  had  withered  from 
England — that  circumstances  occurred  which  in- 
spired the  despairing  adherents  of  the  captive  king 
with  high  hopes,  diverted  the  thoughts  of  the  exiled 
queen  from  reminiscences  of  the  past  to  specula- 
tions on  the  future,  and  opened  up  to  her  son  the 
prospect  of  a  throne,  only  to  conduct  him  to  an 
untimely  grave. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

AVARWICK    AND    THK    WOODVILLES. 

AT  a  court,  over  which  Elizabeth  Woodville  ex- 
ercised all  the  influence  derived  from  her  rank  a5  a 
queen  and  her  fascination  as  a  woman,  the  Earl  of 
Warwick  was  somewhat  out  of  place.  By  Wood- 
ville?,  Herberts,  and  Howards,  he  was  regarded  with 
awe  and  envy  as  the  haughtiest  representative  of 
England's  patricians.  Especially  to  the  queen  and 
her  kinsmen  his  presence  was  irksome ;  and,  know- 
ing that  uny  attempt  to  make  "The  Stout  Earl"  .1 
courtier  after  the  Woodville  pattern  was  hopeless 
as  to  convert  a  bird  of  prey  into  a  barn-door  fowl, 
they  were  at  no  pains  to  conceal  the  pleasure  they 
felt  in  mortifying  his  pride  and  destroying  his  influ- 
ence. One  possibility  does  not  seem  to  have  struck 
them.  The  Woodvilles  themselves,  to  receive  bene- 
fits, had  teen  suddenly  converted  from  the  Red  Rose 
to  the  White ;  Warwick,  to  avenge  the  nation's  in- 
juries and  his  own,  might  as  suddenly  be  converted 
from  the  White  Rose  to  the  Red. 

Notwithstanding  the  exile  of  Lancastrians  and  the 
disconfo':'  <;f  Yorkists,  no  court  in  Christendom  was 
more  brilliant  than  that  of  King  Edward.  Indeed, 


MARGARET  PLANTAGENET  191 

foreign  cmbassadors  confessed,  with  mingled  envy 
and  admiration,  that  their  eyes  were  dazzled  by  the 
surpassing  loveliness,  of  the  damsels  who  appeared 
at  state  balls  in  the  Palace  of  Westminster;  and 
among  these  fair  beings,  perhaps,  none  was  more  in- 
teresting than  the  king's  sifter,  Margaret,  youngest 
daughter  of  Richard  Plantagenet  and  Cicely  Neville. 

Two  daughters  of  the  Duke  of  York  were  already 
wives.  Both  had  been  married  to  English  dukes — 
one  to  Exeter,  another  to  Suffolk  ;  and  it  Avas  known 
that  Edward,  having,  by  his  union  with  Elizabeth 
Woodvillo,  lost  the  opportunity  of  allying  himself 
with  the  Continental  dynasties,  contemplated  for 
his  remaining  sister  a,  marriage  with  some  foreign 
prince  capable  of  aiding  him  in  case  of  a  change  of 
fortune. 

Suitors  were  not,  of  course,  wanting  when  so  fair 
a  princess  as  Margaret  Plantagenet  was  to  be  won  ; 
and  it  happened  that  while  Warwick  was  at  feud  with 
the  Woodvilles — while  the  populace  were  clamoring 
against  the  new  men  with  whom  the  king's  court, 
swarmed — her  hand  was  contended  for  by  Louis  of 
France,  for  a  prince  of  the  blood  royal,  and  by  Louis 
of  Bruges  for  the  Count  of  Charolois,  who,  since  hi* 
interview  with  Margaret  of  Anjou,  had  taken  up 
arms  against  Louis  and  defeated  him  in  the  battle 
of  Montlhery.  The  choice  was  a  matter  of  some 
difficulty ;  for  the  Woodvilles  and  Warwick  took 


102  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

different  sides  of  the  question.  The  queen's  kin- 
dred favored  the  suit  of  the  Count  of  Charolois ; 
while  "  The  Stout  Earl,"  between  whom  and  the 
Burgundian  no  amity  existed,  declared  decidedly 
for  an  alliance  with  France.  Edward  was  in  some 
perplexity,  but  at  length  he  yielded  to  the  earl's 
arguments;  and,  in  1467,  the  frank,  unsuspecting 
king-maker  departed  to  negotiate  a  marriage  Avith 
that  celebrated  master  of  kingcraft,  whose  maxim 
was,  that  he  who  knew  not  how  to  dissemble  knew 
not  how  to  reign. 

When  Louis  heard  of  Warwick's  embassy  he 
could  not  help  thinking  the  occasion  favorable  for 
the  exercise  of  his  craft.  He  resolved  to  give  the 
earl  such  a  reception  as  might  stir  the  jealousy  of 
Edward,  and  acted  in  such  a  manner  as  to  create  in 
the  breast  of  the  English  king  suspicions  of  the  pow- 
erful noble  who  had  placed  him  on  a  throne.  Hav- 
ing landed  at  Harfleur,  Warwick  was,  on  the  7th 
of  June,  conveyed  in  a  barge  to  the  village  of  La 
Bouille,  on  the  Seine.  On  arriving  at  La  Bouille, 
he  found  a  magnificent  banquet  prepared  for  him, 
and  the  king  ready  to  act  as  host.  After  having 
been  sumptuously  feasted,  Warwick  embarked  in  his 
boat  for  Rouen,  whither  the  king  and  his  attendants 
went  by  land  ;  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  met 
the  earl  at  the  gate  of  the  Quay  St.  Eloy,  where  the 
king  had  ordered  a  most  honorable  reception.  Ban- 


WARWICK  AT  ROUEN.  193 

ners,  crosses,  and  holy  water  were  then  presented  to 
Warwick  by  priests  in  their  copes  ;  and  he  was  con- 
ducted in  procession  to  the  cathedral,  where  he  made 
his  oblation,  and  thence  to  lodgings  prepared  for  him 
at  the  monastery  of  the  Jacobins. 

Having  thus  received  Warwick  with  the  honors 
usually  paid  to  royalty,  Louis  entertained  the  great 
earl  in  a  style  corresponding  with  the  reception ; 
and  even  ordered  the  queen  and  princesses  to  come 
to  Rouen  to  testify  their  respect.  The  crafty  king, 
meantime,  did  not  refrain  from  those  mischievous 
tricks  at  which  he  was  such  an  adept.  While  War- 
wick staid  at  Rouen  Louis  lodged  in  the  next  house, 
and  visited  the  earl  at  all  hours,  passing  through  a 
private  door  with  such  an  air  of  mystery,  as  might, 
when  reported  to  Edward,  raise  suspicions  that  some 
conspiracy  had  been  hatching. 

After  the  conference  at  Rouen  had  lasted,  for 
twelve  days,  Louis  departed  for  Chartres,  and  War- 
wick set  sail  for  England.  The  earl  had  been  quite 
successful  in  the  object  of  his  mission  ;  and  he  was 
accompanied  home  by  the  Archbishop  of  Narbonne, 
charged  by  Louis  to  put  the  finishing  stroke  to  the 
treaty  which  was  to  detach  the  French  king  forever 
from  the  Lancastrian  alliance. 

Meanwhile,  the  Woodvilles  had  not  been  idle. 
Far  from  submitting  patiently  to  the  earl's  triumph, 
they  had  labored  resolutely  to  mortify  his  pride  and 
N 


194  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

frustrate  his  mission.  The  business  was  artfully 
managed.  Anthony  Woodville,  in  the  name  of  the 
ladies  of  England,  revived  an  old  challenge  to  An- 
thony, Count  de  la  Roche,  an  illegitimate  son  of  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy ;  and  the  count,  commonly  call- 
ed "  The  Bastard  of  Burgundy,"  having  accepted  the 
challenge,  with  the  usual  forms,  intimated  his  inten- 
tion to  come  to  England  without  delay. 

The  news  crept  abroad  that  a  great  passage  of 
arms  was  to  take  place ;  and  the  highest  expecta- 
tions were  excited  by  the  prospect.  The  king  him- 
self entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  busmess,  consented 
to  act  as  umpire,  and  made  such  arrangements  as,  it 
was  conceived,  would  render  the  tournament  mem- 
orable. Several  months  were  spent  in  adjusting  the 
preliminaries ;  and  the  noblest  knights  of  France 
and  Scotland  were  invited  to  honor  the  tournament 
with  their  presence. 

At  length  the  Bastard  of  Bui-gundy  arrived  in 
London  with  a  splendid  retinue  ;  and  lists  were 
erected  in  Smithfield,  with  pavilions  for  the  com- 
batants, and  galleries  around  for  the  ladies  of  Ed- 
ward's court  and  other  noble  personages  who  had 
been  invited  to  witness  the  pageant.  On  the  llth 
of  June,  all  the  ceremonies  prescribed  by  the  laws 
of  chivalry  having  been  performed,  the  combatants 
prepared  for  the  encounter,  and  advanced  on  horse- 
back from  their  pavilions  into  the  middle  of  the  in- 


A  TOURNAMENT  AT  SMITHFIELD.  195 

closed  space.  After  having  answered  the  usual 
questions,  they  took  their  places  in  the  lists,  and,  at 
the  sound  of  trumpet,  spurred  their  steeds  and 
charged  each  other  with  sharp  spears.  Both  cham- 
pions, however,  bore  themselves  fairly  in  the  en- 
counter, and  parted  with  equal  honor. 

On  the  second  day  of  the  Smithfield  tournament, 
the  result  was  somewhat  less  gratifying  to  the  Bur- 
gundian.  On  this  occasion  the  champions  again 
fought  on  horseback  ;  and,  as  it  happened,  the  steed 
of  Anthony  Woodville  had  a  long  and  sharp  pike  of 
steel  on  his  chaffron.  This  weapon  was  destined  to 
have  great  influence  on  the  fortunes  of  the  day ;  for, 
while  the  combatants  were  engaged  hand  to  hand, 
the  pike's  point  entered  the  nostrils  of  the  Bastard's 
steed,  and  the  animal,  infuriated  by  the  pain,  reared 
and  plunged  till  he  fell  on  his  side.  The  Bastard 
was,  of  course,  borne  to  the  ground ;  and  Anthony 
Woodville,  riding  round  about  with  his  drawn  sword, 
asked  his  opponent  to  yield.  At  this  point,  the 
marshals,  by  the  king's  command,  interfered,  and 
extricated  the  Burgundian  from  his  fallen  steed. 
"  I  could  not  hold  me  by  the  clouds,"  exclaimed  the 
brave  Bastard ;  "  but,  though  my  horse  fail  me,  I 
will  not  fail  my  encounter."  The  king,  however, 
decided  against  the  combat  being  then  renewed. 

Another  day  arrived,  and  the  champions,  armed 
with  battle-axes,  appeared  on  foot  within  the  lists. 


196  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

This  day  proved  as  unfortunate  for  the  Bastard  as 
the  former  had  been.  Both  knights,  indeed,  bore 
themselves  valiantly ;  but,  at  a  critical  moment,  the 
point  of  Woodville's  axe  penetrated  the  sight-hole 
of  his  antagonist's  helmet,  and,  availing  himself  of 
this  advantage,  Anthony  was  on  the  point  of  so 
twisting  his  weapon  as  to  bring  the  Burgundian  to 
his  knee.  At  that  instant,  however,  the  king  cast 
down  his  warder,  and  the  marshals  hastened  to  sever 
the  combatants.  The  Bastard,  having  no  relish  for 
being  thus  worsted,  declared  himself  far  from  con- 
tent, and  demanded  of  the  king,  in  the  name  of  jus- 
tice, that  he  should  be  allowed  to  perform  his  en- 
terprise. Edward  thereupon  appealed  to  the  mar- 
shals ;  and  they,  having  considered  the  matter,  de- 
cided that  by  the  laws  of  the  tournament  the  Bur- 
gundian was  entitled  to  have  his  demand  granted ; 
but  that,  in  such  a  case,  he  must  be  delivered  to  his 
adversary  in  precisely  the  same  predicament  as  when 
the  king  interfered — in  fact,  with  the  point  of  An- 
thony Woodville's  weapon  thrust  into  the  crevice 
of  his  vizor:  "which,"  says  Dugdale,  "when  the 
Bastard  understood,  he  relinquished  his  farther  chal- 
lenge." 

The  tournament  at  Smithfield,  unlike  "  the  gen- 
tle passage  at  Ashby,"  terminated  without  blood- 
shed. Indeed,  neither  Anthony  Woodville  nor  his 
antagonist  felt  any  ambition  to  die  in  their 


THE  BURGUNDJAN  ALLIANCE.  1Q7 

in  the  lists ;  and  the  Bastard,  in  visiting  England, 
had  a  much  more  practical  object  in  view  than  to 
afford  amusement  to  gossiping  citizens.  He  was,  in 
fact,  commissioned  by  the  Count  of  Charolois  to  press 
the  English  king  on  the  subject  of  a  match  with 
Margaret  of  York ;  and  he  played  his  part  so  well 
as  to  elicit  from  Edward,  notwithstanding  Warwick's 
embassy,  a  promise  that  the  hand  of  the  princess 
should  be  given  to  the  heir  of  Burgundy.  When 
Warwick  returned  from  France  and  found  what  had 
been  done  in  his  absence,  he  considered  that  he  had 
been  dishonored.  Such  usage  would,  at  any  time, 
have  grated  hard  on  the  earl's  heart ;  and  the  idea 
of  the  Woodvilles  having  been  the  authors  of  this 
wrong  made  his  blood  boil  with  indignation.  He 
forthwith  retired  to  Middleham,  in  a  humor  the  re- 
verse of  serene,  and  there  brooded  over  his  wrongs 
in  a  mood  the  reverse  of  philosophic. 

The  king  did  not  allow  the  king-maker's  anger  to 
die  for  want  of  fuel.  On  the  contrary,  having  given 
Warwick  serious  cause  of  offense,  he  added  insult  to 
injury  by  pretending  that  the  earl  had  been  gained 
over  by  Louis  to  the  Lancastrian  cause,  and  that 
the  state  was  in  no  small  danger  from  his  treason- 
able attempts.  At  the  same  time,  he  abruptly  de- 
prived George  Neville,  Archbishop  of  York,*  of  the 

*  "George  Neville,  brother  to  the  great  Earl  of  War- 
wick, at  his  installment  into  his  archbishopric  of  York,  made 


198  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

office  of  chancellor — thus  indicating  still  farther  dis- 
trust of  the  great  family  to  whose  efforts  he  owed 
his  crown. 

While  rumors  as  to  Warwick's  new-born  sympa- 
thies with  the  house  of  Lancaster  were  afloat,  the 
Castle  of  Harleck  fell  into  the  king's  hands.  With- 
in the  fortress  was  taken  an  agent  of  Margaret ;  and 
he,  on  being  put  to  the  rack,  declared  that  Warwick, 
during  his  mission  to  France,  had,  at  Rouen,  spoken 
with  favor  of  the  exiled  queen,  during  a  confidential 
conversation  with  Louis.  Warwick  treated  the  ac- 
cusation with  contempt,  and  declined  to  leave  his 
castle  to  be  confronted  with  the  accuser. 

This  unfortunate  incident  was  little  calculated  to 
smooth  the  way  for  a  reconciliation.  Nevertheless, 

a  prodigious  feast  to  the  nobility,  chief  clergy,  and  many 
gentry,  wherein  he  spent  300  quarters  of  wheat,  330  tuns  of 
ale,  104  tuns  of  wine,  I  pipe  of  spiced  wine,  80  fat  oxen,  6 
wild  bulls,  1004  sheep,  3000  hogs,  300  calves,  3000  geese, 
3000  capons,  300  pigs,  100  peacocks,  200  cranes,  200  kids, 
2000  chickens,  4000  pigeons,  4000  rabbits,  204  bittours,  4000 
ducks,  400  herons,  200  pheasants,  500  partridges,  4000  wood- 
cocks, 400  plovers,  100  curlews,  100  quails,  100  egrets,  200 
rees,  above  400  bucks,  does,  and  roebucks,  550G  venison 
pasties,  5000  dishes  of  jelly,  GOOO  custards,  300  pikes,  300 
breams,  8  seals,  4  porpoises,  and  400  tarts.  At  this  feast 
the  Earl  of  Warwick  was  steward,  the  Lord  Hastings  comp- 
troller, with  many  other  noble  officers,  1000  servitors,  62 
cooks,  515  scullions." — Burton's  Admirable  Curiosities  in  En- 
gland. 


THE  BURGUNDIAN  ALLIANCE  199 

the  Archbishop  of  York,  who  had  a  keen  eye  for 
liis  own  interest,  undertook  to  mediate  between  his 
brother  and  the  king.  The  churchman  was  suc- 
cessful in  his  efforts ;  and  in  July,  1468,  when  Mar- 
garet Plantagenet  departed  from  England  for  her 
new  home,  Warwick  rode  before  her,  through  the 
city  of  London,  as  if  to  indicate  by  his  presence  that 
he  had  withdrawn  his  objections  to  her  marriage 
with  the  Count  of  Charolois,  who,  in  the  previous 
year,  on  the  death  of  his  father,  had  succeeded  to 
the  ducal  sovereignty  of  Burgundy. 

The  chroniclers  might  with  propriety  have  de- 
scribed this  as  a  second  "  dissimulated  love-day." 
No  true  reconcilement  could  take  place  between 
the  king  and  the  king-maker.  Warwick  considered 
Edward  the  most  ungrateful  of  mankind ;  and  the 
king  thought  of  the  earl,  as  the  Regent-Duke  of 
Albany  said  of  the  third  Lord  Home,  that  "he 
was  too  great  to  be  a  subject."  The  king  regard- 
ed Warwick's  patriotic  counsel  with  aversion :  the 
earl's  discontent  could  be  read  by  the  multitude  in 
his  frank  face.  Each,  naturally,  began  to  calculate 
his  strength. 

Edward  had  one  source  of  consolation.  In  giving 
his  sister  to  Burgundy  he  had  gained  a  potent  ally 
on  the  Continent ;  and  he  rejoiced  to  think  that,  in 
the  event  of  a  change  of  fortune,  a  relative  so  near 
would  assuredly  befriend  him.  Edward,  like  other 


200  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

men,  deceived  himself  on  such  subjects.  He  little 
iinugined  how  soon  he  would  have  to  ask  his  brother- 
in-law's  protection,  and  how  he  should  find  that  Bur- 
gundy, while  taking  a  wife  from  the  house  of  York, 
had  not  quite  laid  his  prejudices  in  favor  of  the 
house  of  Lancaster. 

Warwick,  on  his  part,  felt  aught  rather  than  satis- 
fied. Notwithstanding  his  appearance  at  court,  he 
was  brooding  over  the  injury  that  he  had  received. 
Convinced  of  the  expediency  of  making  friends,  he 
addressed  himself  to  the  king's  brothers — George, 
Duke  of  Clarence,  and  Richard,  Duke  of  Glouces- 
ter. Of  Gloucester  the  earl  could  make  nothing. 
The  wily  boy  played  with  his  dagger  as  he  was 
wont,  and  maintained  such  a  reserve  that  it  would 
have  been  imprudent  to  trust  him.  With  Clarence 
the  earl  had  more  success.  Indeed,  the  duke  com- 
plained of  the  king's  unkindness ;  and  particularly 
that  though  Edward  had  given  rich  heiresses  to 
Dorset  and  Woodville,  he  had  found  no  match  for 
his  own  brother.  Having  both  something  of  which 
to  complain,  the  earl  and  the  duke  formed  an  alli- 
ance offensive  and  defensive ;  and  a  project  was 
formed  for  binding  them  to  each  other  by  a  tie 
which  the  Nevilles  deemed  could  hardly  be  broken. 

Warwick  had  not  been  blessed  with  a  son  to  in-1 
herit  his  vast  estates,  his  great  name,  and  his  popu- 
larity, which  was  quite  undiminished.  He,  how- 


MARRIAGE  OF  ISABEL  NEVILLE.  201 

ever,  had  two  daughters — Isabel  and  Anne — whose 
birth  and  lineage  were  such  as  to  put  them  on  a 
level  with  any  prince  in  Europe.  It  appears  that 
Isabel  had  inspired  Clarence  with  an  ardent  attach- 
ment ;  but  the  king  and  "  the  queen's  kindred" 
were  averse  to  a  match.  Warwick  now  declared 
that  the  marriage  should  take  place  in  spite  of  their 
hostility ;  and  Clarence  agreed,  for  Isabel's  sake,  to 
defy  both  Edward  and  the  Woodvilles. 

Having  taken  their  resolution,  the  duke  and  the 
earl,  in  the  summer  of  1469,  sailed  for  Calais,  of 
which  Warwick  was  still  governor.  Preparations 
were  made  for  uniting  Clarence  and  Isabel ;  and  in 
the  month  of  July,  "in  the  Chapel  of  Our  Lady,"  the 
ill-starred  marriage  was  solemnized  with  a  pomp  be- 
fitting the  rank  of  a  Plantagenet  bridegroom  and  a 
Neville  bride. 

King  Edward  no  sooner  heard  of  this  marriage 
than  he  expressed  strong  displeasure.  Unkind 
words  passed  in  consequence ;  and,  from  that  date, 
no  affection  existed  between  the  king  and  the  king- 
maker. About  the  same  time  there  appeared  in 
the  heavens  a  comet,  such  as  had  been  seen  on  the 
eve  of  great  national  changes — as  before  Hastings, 
which  gave  England  to  the  Norman  yoke,  and  Eve- 
sham,  which  freed  Englishmen  from  the  domination 
of  a  foreign  baronage  and  an  alien  church.  The  su- 
perstitious were  immediately  struck  with  the  "  blaz- 


202  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

ing  star,"  and  expressed  their  belief  that  it  heralded 
a  political  revolution.  Others  did  not  look  at  the 
sky  for  signs  of  a  coming  struggle.  Indeed,  those 
who  were  capable  of  comprehending  the  events  pass- 
ing before  them  could  entertain  little  doubt  that 
England  had  not  yet  seen  the  last  of  the  Wars  of 
the  Roses. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

DESPOTISM,  DISCONTENT,  AND   DISORDER. 

WHILE  the  Woodvilles  were  supreme,  and  while 
Edward  was  under  their  influence  disheartening  the 
ancient  barons  of  England,  and  alienating  the  great 
noble  to  whom  he  owed  the  proudest  crown  in 
Christendom,  the  imprudent  king  did  not  ingratiate 
himself  with  the  multitude  by  any  display  of  respect 
for  those  rights  and  liberties  to  maintain  which 
Warwick  had  won  Northampton  and  Towton.  In- 
deed, the  government  was  disfigured  by  acts  of  un- 
disguised tyranny ;  and  torture,  albeit  known  to  be 
illegal  in  England,  was  freely  used,  as  during  the 
Lancastrian  rule,  to  extort  evidence.  Even  the 
laws  of  the  first  Edward  and  his  great  minister, 
Robert  de  Burnel,  were  in  danger  of  going  as  much 
out  of  fashion  as  the  chain  armor  in  which  Roger 
Bigod  and  Humphrey  Bohun  charged  at  Lewes  and 
Evesham. 

Edward's  first  victim  was  William  Walker.  This 
man  kept  a  tavern  in  Cheapside,  known  as  "The 
Crown,"  and  there  a  club,  composed  of  young  men, 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  meeting.  These  fell  under 
the  suspicion  of  being  Lancastrians,  and  were  sup- 


201  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

posed  to  be  plotting  a  restoration.  No  evidence  to 
that  effect  existed  ;  but,  unfortunately,  tbe  host,  be- 
ing one  clay  in  a  jocular  mood,  while  talking  to  his 
son,  who  was  a  boy,  said,  "  Tom,  if  thou  behavest 
thyself.  I'll  make  thee  heir  to  the  crown."  Every 
body  knew  that  Walker's  joke  alluded  to  his  sign ; 
yet,  when  the  words  were  reported,  he  was  arrest- 
ed, and,  as  if  in  mockery  of  common  sense,  indicted 
for  imagining  and  compassing  the  death  of  the  king. 
The  prisoner  pleaded  his  innocence  of  any  evil  in- 
tention, but  his  protestations  were  of  no  avail.  He 
was  found  guilty,  in  defiance  of  justice,  and  hanged, 
in  defiance  of  mercy. 

The  next  case,  that  of  a  poor  cobbler,  if  not  so 
utterly  unjust,  was  equally  impolitic  and  still  more 
cruel.  Margaret  of  Anjou  was.  at  that  time,  using 
every  effort  to  regain  her  influence  in  England,  and 
many  persons,  supposed  to  possess  letters  from  the 
exiled  queen,  were  tortured  and  put  to  death  on 
that  suspicion.  Of  these  the  cobbler  was  one,  and 
one  of  the  most  severely  punished.  Having  been 
apprehended  on  the  charge  of  aiding  Margaret  to 
correspond  with  her  partisans  in  England,  he  was 
tortured  to  death  with  red-hot  pincers. 

Even  when  the  sufferers  were  Lancastrians,  the 
barbarity  of  such  proceedings  could  not  fail  to  make 
the  flesh  creep  and  the  blood  curdle ;  but  the  case 
became  still  more  iniquitous  when  government  laid 


SIR  THOMAS  COOKE.  205 

hands  on  men  attached  to  the  house  of  York;  when 
the  Woodvilles,  who  had  themselves  been  Lancas- 
trians, singled  out  as  victims  stanch  partisans  of 
the  White  Rose. 

Sir  Thomas  Cooke  was  one  of  the  most  reputable 
citizens  of  London,  and,  in  the  second  year  of  Ed- 
ward's reign,  had  fulfilled  the  highest  municipal 
functions.  Unfortunately  for  him,  also,  he  had  the 
reputation  of  being  so  wealthy  as  to  tempt  plunder. 
Earl  Rivers  and  the  Duchess  of  Bedford  appear  to 
have  thought  so ;  and  exerted  their  influence  with 
the  king  to  have  the  ex-mayor  arrested  on  a  charge 
of  treason,  and  committed  to  the  Tower. 

It  appears  that,  in  an  evil  hour  for  Cooke,  a  man 
named  Hawkins  had  called  on  him  and  requested 
the  loan  of  a  thousand  marks,  on  good  security ; 
but  Sir  Thomas  said  he  should,  in  the  first  place, 
like  to  know  for  whom  the  money  was,  and,  in  the 
second,  for  what  purpose  it  was  intended.  Hawk- 
ins frankly  stated  it  was  for  the  use  of  Queen  Mar- 
garet ;  and  Cooke  thereupon  declined  to  lend  a 
penny.  Hawkins  went  away,  and  the  matter  rest- 
ed for  some  time.  Sir  Thomas  was  not,  however, 
destined  to  escape  ;  for  Hawkins,  having  been  taken 
to  the  Tower  and  put  to  the  brake,  called  "  the  Duke 
of  Exeter's  daughter,"  confessed  so  much  in  regard 
to  himself  that  he  was  put  to  death ;  and  at  the 
same  time,  under  the  influence  of  excessive  pain, 


206  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

stated  that  Cooke  had  lent  the  money  to  Margaret 
of  Anjou. 

The  Woodvilles,  having  obtained  such  evidence 
against  their  destined  victim,  seized  upon  Cooke's 
house  in  London,  ejecting  his  lady  and  servants, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  took  possession  of  Giddy 
Hall,  his  seat  in  Essex,  where  he  had  fish-ponds, 
and  a  park  full  of  deer,  and  household  furniture  of 
great  value.  After  thus  appropriating  the  estate 
of  the  city  knight,  they  determined  that,  for  form's 
sake,  he  should  have  a  trial;  and  accordingly  a 
commission,  of  which  Earl  Rivers  was  a  member, 
was  appointed  to  sit  at  Guildhall.  It  would  seem 
that  the  Woodvilles,  meanwhile,  had  no  apprehen- 
sion of  the  result  being  unfavorable  to  their  inter- 
ests ;  but,  unfortunately  for  their  scheme  of  appro- 
priation, the  commission  included  two  men  who 
loved  justice  and  hated  iniquity.  These  were  Rich- 
ard Neville,  Earl  of  Warwick,  and  Sir  John  Mark- 
ham,  Chief  Justice  of  England. 

Markham  was  of  a  family  of  lawyers,  whose  pro- 
genitors, though  scarcely  wealthier  than  yeomen,  had 
held  their  land  from  time  immemorial,  and  been  en- 
titled to  carry  coat  armor.  Having  been  eai'ly  call- 
ed to  the  bar,  and  successful  in  his  profession,  he 
became  a  puisne  judge  of  the  court  of  king's  bench  ; 
and  having  strongly  supported  the  claims  of  the 
house  of  York,  and  greatly  contributed,  by  his  abil- 


MARKHAM  AND  THE  WOODVILLES.  207 

ities  and  learning,  to  the  triumph  of  the  White 
Rose,  he  succeeded  Fortescue  as  chief  justice.  But, 
though  zealous  for  the  hereditary  right  of  the  house 
of  York,  Markham  was  neither  a  minion  nor  a  tool 
of  its  members ;  and,  though  he  could  not  but  be 
aware  what  the  court  expected,  he  was  incapable  of 
doing  any  thing  to  forfeit  the  public  respect  which 
he  enjoyed  as  "  The  Upright  Judge."  When,  there- 
fore, the  evidence  against  Cooke  had  been  taken, 
and  the  whole  case  heard,  the  chief  justice  ruled 
that  the  offense  was  not  treason,  but,  at  the  most, 
"  Misprision  of  Treason,"  and  directed  the  jury  so 
to  find  it. 

The  lands  of  Sir  Thomas  Cooke  were  saved,  and 
the  Woodvilles,  angry  as  wild  beasts  deprived  of 
their  prey,  vowed  vengeance  on  the  chief  justice. 
Accordingly  Earl  Rivers  and  his  duchess  pressed 
Edward  to  dismiss  the  unaccommodating  function- 
ary ;  and  Edward  swore  that  Markham  should  never 
sit  on  the  bench  again.  Markham,  submitting  with 
a  dignity  becoming  his  high  character,  carried  his  in- 
tegrity into  retirement ;  and  Sir  Thomas  Cooke  was 
set  free  after  he  had  paid  an  enormous  fine. 

Every  man  of  intelligence  must  now  have  seen 
that  the  Woodvilles  would  embroil  Edward  with 
the  nation.  While  the  king  was,  under  their  influ- 
ence, perpetrating  such  enormities  as  caused  grave 
discontent,  he  was  aroused  to  a  sense  of  insecurity 


208  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSF.S 

by  formidable  commotions  in  the  north.  For  the 
origin  of  these,  the  master  and  brethren  of  the  Hos- 
pital of  St.  Leonards  appear  to  have  been  responsi- 
ble. The  right  of  levying  a  thrave  of  corn  from 
every  plow  in  the  country  for  the  relief  of  the 
poor  had,  it  seems,  been  granted  to  the  hospital  by 
one  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  kings ;  but  the  rural  popu- 
lation complained  that  the  revenue  was  not  expend- 
ed for  charitable  purposes,  but  employed  by  the  mas- 
ter and  brethren  for  their  private  advantage.  After 
long  complaining,  the  people  of  the  country  refused 
to  pay,  and,  in  retaliation,  their  goods  were  dis- 
trained and  their  persons  imprisoned.  At  length, 
in  1469,  finding  they  could  get  no  redress,  the  rec- 
usants took  up  arms,  and,  under  a  captain  named 
Robert  Hulderne,  they  put  the  officers  of  the  hos- 
pital to  the  sword,  and,  to  the  number  of  fifteen 
thousand,  marched,  in  hostile  array,  to  the  gates  of 
York. 

The  insurgents,  however,  were  not  to  have  it  all 
their  own  way.  Lord  Montagu  commanded  in  the 
district ;  and  he  prepared  to  put  down  the  rising 
with  that  vigor  and  energy  which  had  hitherto 
characterized  his  military  operations.  According- 
ly, he  hastened  to  bring  them  to  an  engagement. 
A  skirmish  took  place  ;  the  insurgents  were  scatter- 
ed ;  and  Hulderne,  their  leader,  having  been  taken, 
was  sent  by  Montagu  to  immediate  execution.  Nev- 


A  NORTHERN  INSURRECTION.  2U9 

ertheless,  the  insurgents  continued  in  arms ;  and, 
having  been  joined  by  Lord  Fitzhugh  and  Sir  Hen- 
ry Neville,  the  son  of  Lord  Latimer,  one  a  nephew, 
the  other  a  cousin  of  Warwick,  they  placed  Sir 
John  Conyer?,  a  soldier  of  courage  and  experience, 
at  their  head,  advanced  toward  London,  denouncing 
the  Woodvilles  as  taxers  and  oppressors,  and  loudly 
demanding  their  dismissal  from  the  council. 

Edward  now  roused  himself  from  voluptuous 
lethargy,  and  prepared  to  defend  his  crown.  With- 
out delay,  he  gave  commissions  to  William  Her- 
bert, whom  he  had  created  Earl  of  Pembroke,  and 
Humphrey  Stafford,  to  whom,  on  the  execution  of 
Hugh,  Earl  of  Devon,  at  Salisbury,  he  had  given 
the  heritage  of  the  Courtenays,  to  march  against  the 
rebels.  At  the  same  time,  Edward  buckled  on  his 
armor,  and  advanced  to  Newark.  There,  however, 
he  thought  it  prudent  to  halt ;  and,  finding  his  army 
utterly  weak  and  unsteady,  he  retreated  to  Notting- 
ham. Hitherto  he  had  thought  England  none  the 
worse  for  Warwick's  absence ;  but  now  he  dispatch- 
ed a  message  to  Calais,  beseeching  the  earl  and 
Clarence  to  come  to  his  assistance.  Having  thus 
bent  his  pride,  Edward  waited  the  result  with  anx- 
iety. 

Meanwhile,  Herbert  and  Stafford  were  in  the  field. 
Hastily  assembling  seven  thousand  men,  most  of 
whom  were  Welsh,  the  two  Yorkist  earls  moved 
O 


210  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

against  the  insurgents;  but  they  had  hardly  done 
so,  when  an  unfortunate  dispute  involved  them  in 
serious  disasters. 

It  was  at  Banbury,  when  the  royal  army  ap- 
proached the  insurgents,  that  the  quarrel  took  place. 
It  appears  that  the  Yorkist  earls  had  agreed,  in  the 
course  of  their  expedition,  that  when  either  took 
possession  of  a  lodging,  he  should  be  allowed  to  keep 
it  undisturbed.  On  reaching  Banbury,  on  the  25th 
of  July,  Stafford  took  up  his  quarters  at  an  inn, 
where  there  wras  a  damsel  for  whom  he  had  a  par- 
tiality. Herbert,  who  was  so  proud  of  the  king's 
letter  that  he  could  hardly  contain  his  joy,*  insisted 
upon  putting  Stafford  out  of  the  hostelry  ;  and  Staf- 
ford, whose  spirit  was  high,  took  offense  at  being  so 
treated  by  an  inferior.  Angry  words  passed,  and 
the  consequence  was  that  Stafford  mounted  his  horse, 
and  rode  from  the  town,  with  his  men-at-arms  and 
archers.  Herbert,  alarmed  at  being  left  alone,  hast- 
ened to  the  hill  on  which  his  soldiers  were  encamp- 
ed, and  expressed  his  intention  of  abiding  such  for- 
tune as  GOD  should  send. 

*  "  Herbert  was  not  a  little  joyous  of  the  king's  letter, 
partly  to  deserve  the  king's  liberality,  which,  of  a  mean  gen- 
tleman, had  promoted  him  to  the  estate  of  an  earl,  partly  for 
the  malice  that  he  bare  to  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  being  the 
sole  obstacle  (as  he  thought)  why  he  obtained  not  the  ward- 
ship of  the  Lord  Bonville's  daughter  and  heir  for  his  eldest 
son." — Grafloii's  Chronicle. 


BATTLE  OF  BANBURY.  211 

"When  evening  advanced,  Sir  Henry  Neville,  at 
the  head  of  his  light-horse,  commenced  skirmishing 
with  the  Welsh,  and,  advancing  too  far,  he  was  sur- 
rounded and  slain.  The  northern  men,  thereupon, 
vowed  vengeance  ;  and  next  morning,  at  Edgecote, 
attacked  the  royal  army  with  fury.  Herbert,  on 
the  occasion,  bore  himself  with  a  courage  which 
well-nigh  justified  the  king's  favor  ;  and  his  brother, 
Richard,  twice,  by  main  force,  hewed  his  way  through 
the  insurgent  ranks.  Animated  by  the  example  of 
their  leaders,  the  Welshmen  were  on  the  point  of 
victory,  when  an  esquire,  named  John  Clapham,  at- 
tended by  five  hundred  men,  and  bearing  a  white 
bear,  the  banner  of  the  king-maker,  came  up  the  hill, 
shouting — "  A  Warwick  !  A  Warwick  !"  Hear- 
ing this  war-cry,  so  terrible,  and  believing  that  "  The 
Stout  Earl"  was  upon  them,  the  Welshmen  fled  in 
such  terror  and  confusion  that  the  northern  men 
slaughtered  five  thousand  of  them.  Herbert  and 
his  brother  Richard,  having  been  taken,  were  car- 
ried to  Banbury,  and  there  beheaded,  in  revenge  for 
the  death  of  Sir  Henry  Neville.  Elate  with  their 
victory  at  Banbury,  the  insurgents  resolved  upon 
giving  a  lesson  to  the  "  queen's  kindred ;"  and, 
choosing  for  their  captain  Robert  Hilyard,  whom 
men  called  "  Robin  of  Redesdale,"  they  marched  to 
the  Manor  of  Grafton,  seized  on  Earl  Rivers  and 
John  Woodville,  who  had  wedded  the  old  Duchess 


212  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

of  Norfolk,  carried  these  obnoxious  individuals  to 
Nottingham,  and  there  beheaded  them  as  taxers  and 
oppressors. 

The  king,  on  hearing  of  the  defeat  of  Herbert  and 
the  execution  of  the  Woodvilles,  expressed  the  ut- 
most resentment.  Displeased  with  himself  and  ev- 
ery body  else,  he  looked  around  for  a  victim  on 
whom  to  wreak  his  fury ;  and,  considering  that  of 
all  connected  with  these  misfortunes  Stafford  was 
the  least  blameless,  he  issued  orders  that  the  unfor- 
tunate nobleman  should  be  seized,  and  dealt  with  as 
a  traitor.  The  royal  commands  were  obeyed.  Staf- 
ford was  taken  at  a  village  in  Brentinarsh,  carried 
to  Bridge  water,  and  executed. 

The  aspect  of  affairs  gradually  became  more 
threatening.  At  length  Warwick  arrived  in  En- 
gland, and  repaired  to  the  king,  who  was  encamped 
at  Olncy.  lie  found  Edward  in  no  enviable  plight. 
His  friends  were  killed  or  scattered,  and  his  ene- 
mies close  upon  him.  The  earl  was  just  the  man 
for  such  a  crisis,  and  he  consented  to  exercise  his 
influence.  He  went  to  the  insurgents,  promised  to 
see  their  grievances  redressed,  spoke  to  them  in  that 
popular  strain  which  he  alone  could  use;  and,  at 
his  bidding,  they  dispersed  and  went  northward. 
Edward,  however,  found  that  he  was  hardly  more 
free  than  when  the  forces  of  Robin  of  Redesdale 
hemmed  him  in.  The  earl,  in  fact,  took  the  king 


WARWICK  AND  THE  KING  213 

into  his  own  hands  till  he  should  redeem  his  prom- 
ise to  the  insurgents,  and  conveyed  him,  as  a  kind 
of  prisoner,  to  the  Castle  of  Middleham. 

Edward  had  no  intention  of  granting  the  popular 
demands ;  and  he  was  not  the  man  to  submit  pa- 
tiently to  durance.  He  gained  the  hearts  of  his 
keepers,  and  obtained  liberty  to  go  a-hunting.  This 
privilege  he  turned  to  account ;  and  having  one  day 
been  met  by  Sir  William  Stanley,  Sir  Thomas 
Brough,  and  others  of  his  friends,  he  rode  with  them 
to  York,  pursued  his  way  to  Lancaster,  and,  having 
there  been  met  by  Lord  Hastings,  reached  London 
in  safety. 

A  peace  between  Warwick  and  the  king  was 
brought  about  by  their  friends ;  and  Edward's  eld- 
est daughter  was  betrothed  to  Montagu's  son.  But 
a  few  weeks  after  this  reconciliation,  the  earl  took 
mortal  offense.  The  cause  is  involved  in  some  mys- 
tery. It  appears,  however,  that  Edward  had  two 
failings  in  common  with  many  men  both  small  and 
great — a  weakness  for  wine  and  a  weakness  for 
women.  He  was  much  too  fond  of  deep  drinking, 
and  by  no  means  free  from  the  indiscretions  of  those 
who  indulge  to  excess  in  the  social  cup.  On  some 
occasion,  it  would  seem,  the  king  was  guilty  of  a 
flagrant  impropriety  which  touched  the  honor  and 
roused  the  resentment  of  the  earl.  Even  at  this 
day  the  exact  circumstances  are  unknown ;  but,  in 


214  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

the  fifteenth  century,  rumor  was  not  silent  on  the 
subject.  Hall  has  indicated,  in  language  somewhat 
too  plain  for  this  generation,  that  the  offense  was  an 
insult  offered  by  the  king,  in  Warwick's  house,  to 
the  niece  or  daughter  of  the  earl ;  and  adds,  that 
"  the  certainty  was  not  for  both  their  honors  openly 
known."  But,  however  that  may  have  been,  the 
strife  between  the  king  and  the  king-maker  now  as- 
sumed the  character  of  mortal  enmity,  and  led  rap- 
idly to  those  events  which  rendered  the  year  1470 
memorable  in  the  annals  of  England. 

Edward  was  not  long  left  in  doubt  as  to  the  earl's 
views.  At  the  Moor,  in  Hertfordshire,  which  then 
belonged  to  the  Archbishop  of  York,  which  passed 
fifteen  years  later  to  John  de  Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford, 
and  which,  in  later  days,  became  the  scat  of  Anne 
Scott,  heiress  of  Buccleuch  and  widow  of  the  ill-fated 
Monmouth,  George  Neville,  one  day  in  the  month  of 
February,  gave  a  banquet  to  the  king.  On  the  oc- 
casion Warwick  and  Clarence  were  invited ;  and  all 
was  going  on  well,  and  Edward  was  washing  his 
hands  before  sitting  down  to  supper,  when  one  of  his 
attendants  whispered  that  armed  men  were  lurking 
near  the  house  to  seize  him.  The  king  started,  but, 
recovering  himself  sufficiently  to  betray  no  signs  of 
alarm,  he  got  secretly  out  of  the  house,  mounted  his 
horse,  and,  riding  all  night,  reached  Windsor  Castle 
in  safety. 


INSURRECTION  IN  LINCOLNSHIRE.          215 

Edward  was  not  quite  prepared  to  punish  this  at- 
tempt on  his  liberty.  He,  therefore,  listened  to  the 
mediation  of  the  Duchess  of  York ;  and  that  lady 
was  laboring  to  effect  another  reconciliation,  when 
an  insurrection  took  place  among  the  people  of  Lin- 
colnshire. These  complained  bitterly  of  the  oppres- 
sion of  the  royal  purveyors  ;  and  they  were  headed 
by  Sir  Robert  Welles,  the  heir  of  a  family  remarka- 
ble for  fidelity  to  the  house  of  Lancaster. 

Warwick  was  suspected  to  be  the  author  of  this 
disturbance.  Nevertheless,  the  king  found  it  neces- 
sary to  treat  the  earl  and  Clarence  as  if  he  enter- 
tained no  suspicion.  He  even  intrusted  them  with 
the  command  of  forces  destined  to  suppress  the  in- 
surgents, while  he  prepared  to  march  against  them 
with  a  numerous  army. 

Meanwhile,  the  king  sent  for  Lord  Welles,  father 
of  Sir  Robert,  and,  at  the  royal  summons,  that  no- 
bleman came  to  Westminster,  in  company  with  Sir 
Thomas  Dymoke,  who  had  married  his  daughter. 
Being  informed,  however,  that  the  king  was  much 
incensed,  the  Lancastrian  lord  and  his  son-in-law- 
deemed  it  prudent  to  repair  to  the  sanctuary.  Ed- 
ward, however,  plighted  his  word  as  a  prince,  that 
he  intended  no  harm,  and  they,  fully  relying  on  a 
pledge  so  sacred,  came  to  his  presence.  Edward, 
thereupon,  commanded  Lord  Welles  to  write  to  his 
son  to  desist  from  his  enterprise ;  but  Sir  Robert 


816  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

continuing  firm  in  spite  of  the  paternal  admonition, 
Edward  caused  both  the  old  lord  and  his  son-in-law 
to  be  executed. 

After  this  faithless  proceeding  Edward  left  Lon- 
don. Marching  against  the  insurgents,  he  came  up 
with  them  on  the  13th  of  March,  at  Erpingham,  in 
the  county  of  Rutland.  The  royal  army  was  so 
superior  in  number  that  Sir  Robert  had  scarcely  u 
chance  of  victory.  Exasperated,  however,  by  the 
execution  of  his  father,  the  brave  knight,  setting 
prudence  at  defiance,  was  eager  for  an  encounter. 
The  armies  joined  battle,  and  it  soon  appeared  that 
Sir  Robert  had  reckoned  without  his  host.  The 
conflict  was  utterly  unequal ;  and,  the  insurgents 
having  been  worsted,  their  leader  was  taken  pris- 
oner. No  sooner  was  Welles  in  the  hands  of  the 
enemy  than  the  Lincolnshire  men  whom  he  had 
commanded  became  a  mob,  and  fled  from  the  field, 
having  previously  thrown  off  their  coats,  that  their 
running  might  not  be  impeded.  From  this  circum- 
stance the  battle  was  popularly  spoken  of  as  "Lose- 
cote  Field." 

The  tables  were  now  turned.  The  king  was  in 
fi  condition  to  defy  Warwick,  while  the  king-maker 
had  no  means  of  raising  such  a  force  as  could,  with 
any  chance  of  success,  encounter  the  royal  army 
flushed  with  victory.  The  earl,  however,  made  one 
effort.  Being  at  his  Castle  of  Warwick,  and  hear- 


WARWICK   AND  STANLEY.  217 

ing  of  Edward's  victory  at  Erpingham,  he  endeavor- 
ed to  draw  Lord  Stanley,  his  brother-in-law,  to  his 
side.  Stanley,  however,  was  far  too  prudent  a  man 
to  rush  into  danger  even  for  his  great  kinsman's 
sake.  He  answered  that  "  he  would  never  make 
war  against  King  Edward ;"  and  Warwick  and 
Clarence  were  compelled  to  turn  toward  Dart- 
mouth. 


CHAPTER  XXH. 

THE    SIEGE    OF    EXETER. 

ON  the  summit  of  the  hill  that  rises  steeply  from 
the  left  bank  of  the  River  Exe,  and  is  crowned  with 
the  capital  of  Devon,  some  of  the  burghers  of  Exeter 
might  have  been  met  with,  one  spring  day  in  1470, 
gossiping  about  the  king  and  Lord  Warwick,  and 
making  observations  on  several  hundreds  of  armed 
men,  who,  not  Avithout  lance,  and  plume,  and  pen- 
non, were  escorting  a  youthful  dame,  of  patrician 
aspect  and  stately  bearing,  toward  the  city  gates. 
The  mayor  and  aldermen  "were,  probably,  the  re- 
verse of  delighted  with  the  appearance  of  these 
fighting  men.  Indeed,  the  warlike  strangers  were 
adherents  of  Warwick  and  Clarence,  escorting  the 
young  duchess  who  was  daughter  of  one  and  wife 
of  the  other ;  and  at  that  time,  as  was  well  known, 
both  "  The  Stout  Earl"  and  the  fickle  duke  were  at 
enmity  with  King  Edwai'd.  The  citizens  of  Exeter, 
however,  made  a  virtue  of  necessity,  and  cheerfully 
enough  admitted  within  their  walls  those  whom  they 
had  not  the  power  to  exclude. 

At  that  time  Isabel,  Duchess  of  Clarence,  was 
about  to  become,  under  mortifying  circumstances, 


EXETER  BESIEGED.  219 

the  mother  of  a  son  "  born  to  perpetual  calamity ;" 
but,  however  delicate  her  situation,  Lord  Warwick's 
daughter,  reared  in  the  midst  of  civil  strife,  was 
probably  less  troubled  than  might  be  imagined 
with  uneasiness  as  to  the  present  or  apprehension 
as  to  the  future,  as,  with  all  honors  due  to  her  rank, 
she  was  conducted  to  the  palace  of  the  Bishop  of 
Exeter. 

The  Duchess  of  Clarence  soon  had  need  of  her 
hereditary  courage ;  for  she  had  scarcely  been  lodged 
in  the  bishop's  palace,  and  the  lords  who  attended 
her  in  the  houses  of  the  canons,  when  Sir  Hugh 
Courtenay,  sheriff  of  Devon,  took  the  opportunity 
of  displaying  his  zeal  in  the  king's  service,  raised  an 
army  in  the  vicinity,  and  marched  toward  Exeter  to 
the  assault  of  the  city.  Perceiving,  however,  that 
its  reduction  must  be  the  work  of  time,  the  sheriff 
encamped  his  men  around  the  walls,  barricaded  the 
roads,  stopped  every  avenue  by  which  provisions 
could  have  reached  the  garrison,  and  appeared  pre- 
pared to  proceed  deliberately  with  the  siege.  Hav- 
ing taken  these  measures,  Courtenay  sent  a  messen- 
ger to  the  mayor,  demanding  that  the  gates  should 
be  opened  forthwith. 

The  mayor  and  the  other  municipal  functionaries 
were  by  no  means  willing  to  incur  the  wrath  of  Ed- 
ward of  York.  On  the  contrary,  they  were  much 
inclined  to  entitle  themselves  to  his  favor  by  com- 


220  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

plying  with  the  sheriff's  demand.  But  Warwick's 
friends  were  on  their  guard.  Suspecting  that  the 
mayor  might  prove  untrue,  and  resolved  to  have 
their  fate  in  their  own  hands,  the  lords  and  gentle- 
men insisted  on  the  keys  of  the  city  being  placed  in 
their  possession ;  and,  the  mayor  yielding  on  this 
point,  they  appointed  the  watch,  manned  the  walls, 
repaired  the  gates,  and  took  the  entire  management 
of  the  defense.  Finding  themselves  in  a  somewhat 
delicate  predicament,  and  not  free  from  danger,  the 
mayor  and  aldermen  resolved  to  speak  both  parties 
fair,  and  do  nothing  till  one  side  or  other  proved 
triumphant. 

At  first  Warwick's  red-jackets  made  so  brave  a 
defense  that  Courtenay  could  not  boast  of  any  prog- 
ress. Ere  long,  however,  they  had  to  contend  with 
a  more  formidable  foe  than  the  knightly  sheriff. 
After  the  siege  had  lasted  some  days,  provisions  fell 
short;  famine  was  apprehended;  and  the  inhabit- 
ants became  inconveniently  impatient.  The  War- 
wickers,  however,  were  utterly  disinclined  to  yield. 
Indeed,  with  the  fate  of  Lord  Welles  and  Sir  Thom- 
as Dymoke  before  their  eyes,  they  might  well  hesi- 
tate to  trust  to  Edward's  tender  mercies.  They, 
therefore,  determined  to  endure  all  privations  rather 
than  submit,  and  declared  their  intention  to  hold  out 
till  GOD  sent  them  deliverance.  This  resolution 
might  have  been  difficult  to  maintain  ;  but,  after  the 


WARWICK  RETIRES  TO  CALAIS.  221 

siege  had  lasted  for  twelve  days,  they  were  relieved 
by  the  arrival  of  Warwick  and  Clarence. 

The  earl  did  not  arrive  at  Exeter  with  laurels  on 
his  brow.  At  Erpingham,  Edward  had  already  en- 
countered the  insurgents  under  Sir  Robert  Welles ; 
and,  having  made  the  northern  men  fly  before  his 
lance,  he  had  proclaimed  Warwick  and  Clarence 
traitors,  and  offered  a  reward  for  their  apprehen- 
sion. Disappointed  of  Lord  Stanley's  alliance,  and 
of  aid  from  Sir  John  Conyers,  the  earl  and  the  duke 
joined  their  friends  in  haste  and  alarm.  Resistance 
was  simply  out  of  the  question,  for  the  king  was  at 
the  head  of  an  army  of  forty  thousand  men ;  and 
the  king-maker  had  merely  the  yeomanry  of  the 
county  of  Warwick.  The  earl's  game  was  clearly 
up  for  the  present ;  and  his  only  chance  of  safety 
appeared  to  lie  in  a  retreat  to  the  Continent,  He, 
therefore,  caused  ships  to  be  immediately  fitted  out 
at  Dartmouth  ;  and,  going  to  that  port,  after  a  three 
days'  stay  in  Exeter,  he  sailed  for  Calais,  of  which 
he  still  continued  captain. 

Meanwhile,  the  king,  flushed  with  his  victory  over 
the  Lincolnshire  men,  learned  that  Warwick  had 
gone  toward  Exeter.  Thither,  at  the  head  of  his 
army,  marched  Edward,  accompanied  by  a  band  of 
nobles,  among  whom  were  the  Dukes  of  Norfolk  and 
Suffolk,  the  Earls  of  Arundel  and  Rivers,  and  the 
Lords  Stanley  and  Hastings.  The  citizens,  uncom- 


222  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

fortable,  no  doubt,  at  having  harbored  the  enemies 
of  a  prince  so  potent,  resolved  upon  doing  all  in  their 
power  to  entitle  themselves  to  his  favor.  On  hear- 
ing of  the  approach  of  the  royal  army,  the  mayor 
issued  orders  that  every  inhabitant  having  the 
means  should  provide  himself  with  a  gown  of  the 
city's  livery,  and  hold  himself  in  readiness  to  give 
the  king  a  loyal  reception. 

At  length,  on  the  14th  of  April,  Edward's  ban- 
ners appeared  in  sight ;  and  the  mayor,  attended 
by  the  recorder  and  four  hundred  of  the  citizens, 
clad  in  scarlet,  issued  forth  from  the  gates  to  bid 
the  king  welcome.  The  scene  was  such  as  had  gen- 
erally been  witnessed  on  such  occasions.  The  mayor 
made  a  humble  obeisance;  the  recorder  delivered 
an  oration,  congratulating  Edward  on  coming  to 
Exeter.  This  ceremony  over,  the  mayor  pro.-ontcd 
the  king  with  the  keys  of  the  city  and  a  purse  con- 
taining a  hundred  nobles  in  gold.  Edward  return- 
ed the  keys ;  but  "  the  gold,"  says  the  historian, 
"he  took  very  thankfully." 

Having  thus  propitiated  the  conqueror,  the  mayor 
of  Exeter,  his  head  uncovered,  and  bearing  the  mace 
of  the  city  in  his  hands,  conducted  the  king  through 
the  gate  and  toward  the  house  which  he  was  to 
occupy.  After  remaining  a  few  days  in  Exeter, 
Edward  returned  to  London,  congratulating  him- 
self on  having  put  under  his  feet  so  many  of  his  en- 


TRIUMPH  OF  THE  KING.  223 

emies,  and  out  of  the  kingdom  the  great  noble  to 
whom  he  owed  his  crown.  He  seemed  to  think  the 
whole  quarrel  between  the  people  of  England  and 
the  family  of  Woodville  decided  in  favor  of  his  wife's 
kindred  by  the  flight  of  the  Lancastrians  from  Er- 
pingham  and  the  earl's  retreat  from  Exeter. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

LOUIS    THE   CRAFTY. 

WHEN  Warwick  sailed  from  Dartmouth  as  a  mor- 
tal foe  of  the  man  whom,  ten  years  earlier,  he  had 
seated  on  the  throne  of  the  Plantagenets,  the  excite- 
ment created  by  the  event  was  not  confined  to  En- 
gland. So  grand  was  the  earl's  fame,  so  high  his 
character,  so  ardent  his  patriotism,  and  so  great  the 
influence  he  had  exercised  over  that  nation  of  which 
he  was  the  pride,  that  Continental  princes  listened  to 
the  news  of  his  breaking  with  Edward  as  they  would 
have  done  to  that  of  an  empire  in  convulsions.  The 
circumstances  of  the  King  of  France  and  the  Duke 
of  Burgundy  especially  were  such  that  they  could 
not  have  remained  indifferent  to  what  was  passing ; 
and  lively,  indeed,  was  the  interest  which  Charles 
the  Rash  and  Louis  the  Crafty  exhibited  on  the  oc- 
casion. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  has  rendered  Louis,  with  his  pe^ 
culiarities  of  mind,  manner,  and  dress,  familiar  to 
the  readers  of  "Quentin  Durward."  At  the  men- 
tion of  his  name  there  rises  before  the  mind's  eye  a 
man  of  mean  figure,  with  pinched  features,  a  thread- 
bare jerkin,  and  low  fur  cap,  ornamented  with  pal- 


LOUIS  OF  FRANCE.  225 

try  leaden  images — now  indulging  in  ribald  talk, 
now  practicing  the  lowest  hypocrisy,  and  no\r  tak- 
ing refuge  in  the  grossest  superstition.  Our  concern 
with  him  at  present,  however,  is  only  so  far  as  his 
career  is  associated  with  the  Wars  of  the  Hoses. 

Louis  was  the  son  of  the  seventh  Charles  of 
France,  and  of  his  queen,  Mary  of  Anjou,  a  princess 
of  worth  and  virtue,  but  not  tenderly  beloved  by  her 
husband,  whose  heart  was  devoted  to  his  mistress, 
Agnes  Sorrel,  the  handsomest  woman  of  that  age. 
Born  at  the  commencement  of  those  operations  which 
resulted  in  the  expulsion  of  the  English  from  France, 
Louis  had  just  reached  the  age  of  sixteen  in  1440, 
when,  to  get  rid  of  his  tutor,  the  Count  de  Perdriac, 
he  stole  from  the  Castle  of  Loches,  and  conspired 
against  his  father's  government.  The  conspiracy 
came  to  naught,  and  Louis  was  pardoned ;  but,  a 
few  years  later,  he  incurred  the  suspicion  of  having 
poisoned  Agnes  Sorrel,  and,  flying  from  his  father's 
court,  sought  refuge  in  Dauphiny. 

Enraged  at  the  death  of  his  mistress  and  the  con- 
duct of  his  son,  the  king,  in  1446,  sent  a  band  of 
armed  men  to  arrest  the  heir  of  France ;  and  placed 
at  their  head  the  Count  of  Dammartin.  Louis, 
however,  received  timely  warning,  and  projected  an 
escape.  "With  this  view,  he  appointed  a  grand  hunt- 
ing-match, ordered  his  dinner  to  be  prepared  at  the 
particular  rendezvous,  and  took  care  that  the  count 
P 


226  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

was  informed  of  the  circumstance.  Completely  de- 
ceived, Damniartin  placed  troops  in  ambush,  and 
made  certain  of  a  capture ;  but  Louis  valued  life 
and  liberty  too  much  to  allow  himself  to  be  caught. 
Instead  of  going  to  the  hunt,  he  mounted  a  fleet 
steed,  and,  riding  to  the  territories  of  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy,  was  courteously  received  and  entertained 
by  that  magnate. 

On  hearing  that  Burgundy  had  treated  the  dau- 
phin so  handsomely,  King  Charles  protested,  and 
warned  the  duke  against  heaping  benefits  on  a  man 
of  so  depraved  a  disposition.  "  You  know  not,  Duke 
Philip,"  said  the  king,"  "  the  nature  of  this  savage 
animal.  You  cherish  a  wolf,  who  will  one  day  tear 
your  sheep  to  pieces.  Kemember  the  fable  of  the 
countryman,  who,  in  compassion  to  a  viper  which 
he  found  half  frozen  in  the  field,  brought  it  to  his 
house,  and  warmed  it  by  the  fireside,  till  it  turned 
round  and  hissed  at  its  preserver."  The  good  duke, 
however,  continued  to  protect  Louis,  granted  him 
a  pension  to  maintain  his  state,  and  gave  him  the 
choice  of  a  residence.  Louis  selected  the  Castle  of 
Gennape,  in  Brabant  ;  and,  during  his  residence 
there,  formed  a  close  intimacy  with  the  duke's  son, 
the  Count  of  Charolois,  afterward  celebrated  as 
Charles  the  Rash. 

The  heir  of  Burgundy  was  some  years  younger 
than  the  dauphin,  and  in  character  presented  a  re- 


LOUIS  BECOMES  KING.  227 

markable  contrast  with  the  exiled  prince,  being  vi- 
olent, ungovernable,  and,  in  all  cases,  ruled  by  his 
anger  and  pride.  Round  this  incarnation  of  feudal- 
ism Louis  had  the  art  to  wind  himself,  as  the  ivy 
does  around  the  oak  it  is  destined  to  destroy.  They 
feasted  together,  hawked  together,  hunted  together, 
and,  in  fact,  were  bosom  friends  ;  and  when,  in  1456, 
Isabel  de  Bourbon,  the  first  wife  of  Charles,  gave 
birth  to  a  daughter,  at  Brussels,  it  was  Louis  who 
figured  as  sponsor  at  the  baptism  of  the  infant 
princess  ;  and  it  was  Louis  who  gave  Mary  of  Bur- 
gundy her  Christian  name,  in  honor  of  his  mother, 
Mary  of  Anjou. 

When  the  dauphin  had  for  years  enjoyed  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy's  hospitality,  Charles  the  Sev- 
enth died ;  and,  shortly  after  the  battle  of  Towton, 
the  exiled  prince,  at  the  age  of  thirty-eight,  succeed- 
ed to  the  crown  of  St.  Louis.  Hardly,  however,  had 
the  dauphin  become  king,  when  he  forgot  all  his 
obligations  to  the  house  which  had  sheltered  him  in 
adversity.  Eager  to  weaken  the  influence  of  the 
two  great  feudatories  of  France,  he  sought  to  create 
hostility  between  the  Duke  of  Brittany  and  the 
Count  of  Charolois.  With  this  object  he  granted 
each  of  them  the  government  of  Normandy,  in  hopes 
of  their  contesting  it,  and  destroying  each  other. 
Discovering  the  deception,  however,  they  united 
against  the  deceiver,  rallied  around  them  the  mal- 


228  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

contents  of  France,  and  placed  at  their  head  the 
king's  brother.  Charles  de  Valois,  who  claimed  Nor- 
mandy as  his  appanage. 

A  formidable  alliance,  called  "The  League  for 
the  Public  Good,"  having  been  formed,  Charolois, 
attended  by  the  Count  of  St.  Pol,  and  the  Bastard 
of  Burgundy,  who  afterward  tilted  at  Smithfield 
with  Anthony  Woodville,  led  his  forces  into  France 
in  hostile  array.  Louis,  though  taken  by  surprise, 
girded  himself  up  for  a  conflict,  and,  on  the  16th  of 
July,  1405,  met  his  foes  at  Montlhery.  A  fierce 
battle  followed ;  and  the  king  fought  with  courage. 
The  day,  however,  went  against  France ;  and  Louis 
was  forced  to  leave  the  field,  with  the  loss  of  some 
hundreds  of  his  men  and  several  of  his  captains, 
among  whom  was  one  who,  in  the  Wars  of  the 
Ptoses,  had  spent  a  fortune,  and  enacted  a  strange 
and  romantic  part.  For  among  the  slain  at  Mon- 
tlhery, was  Sir  Peter  de  Breze,  celebrated  for  his 
chivalrous  admiration  of  Margaret  of  Anjou,  who, 
at  the  tournament  given  in  France  in  honor  of  her 
nuptials,  had  distinguished  himself  by  feats  of  arms, 
and  who,  when  years  of  sorrow  had  passed  over  her 
head,  came  to  England  to  prove  his  devotion  by 
fighting  for  her  husband's  crown. 

When  Louis  was  under  the  necessity  of  abandon- 
ing the  field  at  Montlhery  to  the  heir  of  Burgundy, 
Normandy  revolted  to  the  insurgent  princes ;  and 


LOUIS  AND  CHARLES  THE  RASH.  229 

the  king,  finding  himself  the  weaker  party,  had  re- 
course to  dissimulation.  He  expressed  his  readiness 
to  negotiate,  pretended  to  forget  his  resentment,  sur- 
rendered Normandy  to  his  brother,  satisfied  the  de- 
mands of  the  Count  of  Charolois,  and  named  the 
Count  of  St.  Pol  Constable  of  France.  But  this 
treaty  negotiated  at  Conflans  having,  at  the  king's 
desire,  been  annulled  by  the  States-General,  Louis 
avenged  himself  by  depriving  Charles  de  Valois  of 
Normandy,  and  stirring  up  the  rich  cities  of  Flan- 
ders to  revolt  against  Charolois,  now,  by  his  father's 
death,  Duke  of  Burgundy,  and,  by  his  second  mar- 
riage, brother-in-law  to  Edward  of  York. 

At  the  time  when  Louis  was  inciting  the  Flemings 
to  revolt  against  their  sovereign,  and  when  he  had 
an  emissary  in  Liege  for  that  purpose,  he  endeavored 
to  avert  suspicion  from  himself  by  paying  a  visit  to 
Charles  the  Rash,  at  Peronne.  This  piece  of  diplo- 
macy well-nigh  cost  his  life.  Scarcely  had  the  king 
arrived  at  Peronne  ere  intelh'gence  followed  of  the 
revolt  at  Liege ;  and  Burgundy  was  exasperated 
in  the  highest  degree  to  learn  that  the  populace 
had  proceeded  to  horrible  excesses,  massacred  the 
canons,  and  murdered  the  bishop,  Louis  de  Bour- 
bon, his  own  relative.  But  when,  in  addition  to 
all  this,  Burgundy  heard  that  the  king  was  the 
author  of  the  sedition,  his  rage  knew  no  bounds. 
He  immediately  committed  Louis  to  prison,  men- 


230  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

need  the  captive  with  death,  and  appeared  determ- 
ined to  execute  his  threat.  Louis,  however,  be- 
came aware  of  his  peril,  and  submitted  to  all  that 
was  demanded.  To  extricate  himself  from  danger 
he  signed  the  treaty  of  Peronne,  divesting  himself 
of  all  sovereignty  over  Burgundy,  giving  his  brother 
Champagne  and  Brie,  and  finally  engaging  to  march 
in  person  against  the  insurgents  of  Lie'ge. 

The  treaty  of  Peronne  restored  Louis  to  liberty, 
but  not  till  he  had  played  a  part  that  must  have 
tried  even  his  seared  conscience.  He  was  under 
the  necessity  of  accompanying  Burgundy  to  Liege, 
witnessing  the  destruction  of  the  unfortunate  city, 
beholding  a  general  massacre  of  the  men  whom 
he  had  incited  to  revolt,  and  even  congratulating 
Charles  the  Rash  on  having  executed  vengeance. 
All  this  time,  however,  Louis  had  no  intention  of 
maintaining  the  treaty  of  Peronne.  Indeed,  he  only 
awaited  a  favorable  opportunity  of  breaking  faith ; 
but  he  deemed  it  policy  to  proceed  cautiously,  for 
the  alliance  of  Burgundy  with  Edward  of  York  ren- 
dered the  duke  formidable  in  his  eyes. 

At  the  opening  of  his  reign  Louis,  notwithstand- 
ing his  relationship  to  Margaret  of  Anjou,  had  shown 
a  disinclination  to  make  sacrifices  for  the  house  of 
Lancaster ;  while  Charles  the  Kash,  as  a  descendant 
of  John  of  Gaunt,  had  expressed  much  sympathy 
with  the  party  whose  badge  was  the  Red  Rose. 


LOUIS  AND  WARWICK.  231 

Even  kings,  however,  are  the  creatures  of  circum- 
stances ;  and  the  disposal  which  Edward,  in  his  wis- 
dom, made  of  the  hand  of  Margaret  of  York  ren- 
dered Burgundy  favorable  to  the  White  Rose,  while 
it  induced  Louis,  from  selfish  motives,  to  exhibit 
more  friendship  for  the  adherents  of  Lancaster. 

Louis  had  not  a  particle  of  chivalry  in  his  com- 
position, and  would  have  ridiculed  the  notion  of  un- 
dertaking any  thing  for  the  advantage  of  others. 
He  was  keenly  alive  to  his  own  interest,  however, 
and  deemed  it  politic  to  give  the  enemies  of  Edward 
some  degree  of  encouragement.  To  make  them  for- 
midable enough  to  keep  the  Yorkist  king  at  home 
was  the  object  of  his  policy,  for  of  all  calamities 
Louis  most  dreaded  an  English  invasion.  When 
Warwick  broke  with  Edward,  he  was  not  only  freed 
from  fear,  but  animated  by  hope ;  for  in  the  earl's 
destiny  he  had  perfect  faith  ;  and  the  earl  was  known 
to  entertain  an  antipathy  to  Burgundy,  and  a  strong 
opinion  that  peace  with  France  was  essential  to  En- 
gland's welfare. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

"THE  STOUT  EARL"  AND  "THE  FOREIGN  WOMAN." 

IT  was  the  spring  of  1470  when  Warwick  left 
the  shores  of  England,  accompanied  by  the  Duke  of 
Clarence,  by  the  Countess  of  Warwick,  and  by  her 
two  daughters.  The  king-maker  sailed  toward 
Calais,  of  which,  since  1455,  he  had  been  captain- 
general.  At  Calais  Warwick  expected  welcome 
and  safety.  Such,  indeed,  had  been  his  influence  in 
the  city  in  former  days  that  his  dismissal  by  the 
Lancastrian  king  had  proved  an  idle  ceremony ;  and, 
moreover,  he  relied  with  confidence  on  the  fidelity 
of  Lord  Vauclerc,  a  Gascon,  whom,  years  before,  he 
had  left  as  his  deputy  in  the  government. 

Warwick  was  doomed  to  disappointment.  News 
of  the  earl's  rupture  with  the  king  had  preceded  him 
to  Calais ;  and,  as  his  ships  approached  the  city  of 
refuge,  Vauclerc,  far  from  according  to  his  patron 
the  anticipated  welcome,  ordered  the  artillery  of  the 
fort  to  be  pointed  against  the  fleet.  This  was  not 
the  worst.  While  the  exiles,  somewhat  perplexed, 
lay  before  Calais,  the  Duchess  of  Clarence  became 
a  mother ;  and  the  earl  appealed  to  the  governor's 
humanity  to  admit  her  into  the  city.  But  Vauclerc 


WARWICK  AND  VAUCLERC.  233 

resolutely  refused  to  countenance  Edward's  ene- 
mies, and  the  Gascon  was  with  no  slight  difficulty 
persuaded  to  send  on  board  two  flagons  of  wine. 
Even  the  privilege  of  baptism  in  the  city,  which 
stood  as  a  monument  of  the  Continental  triumphs 
of  the  Plantagenets,  was  refused  to  the  infant  des- 
tined to  be  the  last  male  heir  of  that  illustrious 
race. 

Vauclerc,  however,  gave  the  earl  information  by 
no  means  valueless,  in  the  shape  of  a  warning  that 
on  putting  to  sea  he  must  beware  where  he  landed, 
as  the  myrmidons  of  Burgundy  were  on  the  watch 
to  seize  him.  At  the  same  time,  he  took  occasion 
secretly  to  send  an  apology  to  Warwick,  and  to 
represent  his  conduct  as  being  entirely  guided  by 
zeal  for  the  earl's  safety.  "  Calais,"  said  he,  "  is 
ill-supplied  with  provisions  ;  the  garrison  can  not 
be  depended  on ;  the  inhabitants,  who  live  by  the 
English  commerce,  will  certainly  take  part  with  the 
established  government ;  and  the  city  is  in  no  con- 
dition to  resist  England  on  one  side  and  Burgundy 
on  the  other.  It  is  better,  therefore,  that  I  should 
seem  to  declare  for  Edward,  and  keep  the  fortress 
in  my  power  till  it  is  safe  to  deliver  it  to  you." 
Warwick  was  not,  probably,  in  a  very  credulous 
mood ;  but  he  took  Vauclerc's  explanation  for  what 
it  was  worth,  ordered  the  anchors  to  be  hauled  up, 
and,  having  defied  Burgundy's  enmity  by  seizing 


234  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

some  Flemish  ships  that  lay  off  Calais,  sailed  to- 
ward the  coast  of  Normandy. 

King  Edward,  on  hearing  of  Vauclerc's  refusal  to 
admit  Warwick,  expressed  himself  highly  pleased 
with  the  deputy-governor,  and  manifested  his  ap- 
proval by  sending  the  Gascon  a  patent  as  Captain- 
general  of  Calais.  Burgundy,  not  to  be  behind  his 
brother-in-law,  dispatched  Philip  de  Comines  to  an- 
nounce to  Vauclerc  that  he  should  have  a  pension 
of  a  thousand  crowns  for  life,  and  to  keep  him  true 
to  his  principles.  Vauclerc  must  have  laughed  in 
his  sleeve  at  all  this.  "Never  man,"  says  Sir 
Richard  Baker,  "  was  better  paid  for  one  act  of 
dissembling." 

Meanwhile,  Warwick  landed  at  Harfleur,  where 
his  reception  was  all  that  could  have  been  wished. 
The  governor  welcomed  the  exiles  with  every  token 
of  respect,  escorted  the  ladies  to  Valognes,  and  hast- 
ened to  communicate  Warwick's  arrival  to  the  king. 
Louis  exhibited  the  most  unbounded  confidence  in 
the  earl's  fortunes.  Indeed,  so  confident  in  the 
king-maker's  alliance  was  the  crafty  monarch,  that 
he  prepared  to  brave  the  united  enmity  of  Edward 
of  England  and  Charles  of  Burgundy.  Without 
delay  he  invited  the  great  exile  to  court ;  and,  as 
Warwick  and  Clarence — whom  Warwick  then  in- 
tended to  place  on  the  English  throne — rode  toward 
Amboise,  their  journey  excited  the  utmost  curiosity. 


WARWICK  IN  EXILE.  235 

Every  where  the  inhabitants  were  eager  to  see  "The 
Stout  Earl ;"  and  Jacques  Bonnehomme  came  from 
his  cabin  to  gaze  on  the  man  who  made  and  unmade 
kings,  and  who,  unlike  the  nobles  of  France,  took 
pride  in  befriending  the  people  in  peace  and  sparing 
them  in  war. 

At  Amboise  Warwick  met  with  a  reception  which 
must  have  been  gratifying  to  his  pride.  Louis  was 
profuse  of  compliments  and  lavish  of  promises.  The 
French  king,  however,  took  occasion  to  suggest  to 
Warwick  the  expediency  of  finding  some  more  ade- 
quate instrument  than  Clarence  wherewith  to  work 
out  his  projects ;  and  the  English  earl,  bent  on 
avenging  England's  injuries  and  his  own,  listened 
with  patience,  even  when  Louis  proposed  an  alliance 
with  Lancaster. 

Ere  this  Margaret  was  on  the  alert.  When,  in 
the  autumn  of  1469,  the  exiled  queen  learned  that 
the  house  of  York  was  divided  against  itself,  and 
that  the  king  and  the  king-maker  were  mortal  foes, 
she  left  her  retreat  at  Verdun,  and,  with  her  son, 
repaired  to  the  French  king  at  Tours.  Thither,  to 
renew  tfieir  adhesion  to  the  Red  Rose,  came,  among 
other  Lancastrians,  Jasper  Tudor,  Earl  of  Pembroke, 
who  had  been  wandering  over  Europe  like  a  vaga- 
bond, and  Henry  Holland,  Duke  of  Exeter,  and  Ed- 
mund Beaufort,  Duke  of  Somerset,  with  his  brother 
John,  who,  since  the  rout  of  Hexham,  had  been  lurk- 


236  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

ing  in  Flanders,  concealing  their  names  and  quality, 
and  suffering  all  those  inconveniences  that  arise  from 
the  ill-assorted  union  of  pride  and  poverty.  A  man 
bearing  a  nobler  name,  and  gifted  with  a  higher  in- 
tellect than  Tudors,  Hollands,  or  Beauforts,  now 
joined  the  Lancastrian  exiles.  It  was  John  De 
Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  contentions  of  York  and 
Lancaster,  the  De  Veres  naturally  took  part  against 
the  misleaders  of  the  monk -monarch,  and  as  late,  at 
least,  as  1455,  John,  twelfth  Earl  of  Oxford,  was  a 
friend  of  the  duke.  Oxford,  however,  was  not  pre- 
pared for  a  transfer  of  the  crown  ;  and  when  the 
dispute  assumed  the  form  of  a  dynastic  war,  he  took 
the  losing  side,  and  in  1461  was  beheaded  on  Tower 
Hill,  with  his  eldest  son,  Aubrey.  At  the  time  of 
the  old  earl's  execution,  his  second  son,  John,  was 
twenty-three  ;  and,  being  husband  of  Margaret  Nev- 
ille, the  sister  of  Warwick,  he  was  allowed  to  re- 
main undisturbed  in  England,  to  bear  the  title  of 
Oxford,  and,  without  taking  any  part  in  politics,  to 
maintain  feudal  state  at  Wyvenhoe  and  Castle  Hed- 
lingham.  Oxford,  however,  was  "  linked  in  the 
closest  friendship  with  Warwick ;"  and  when  the 
Yorkist  king  shook  off  the  influence  of  "  The  Stout 
Earl,"  England  was  no  longer  a  place  of  safety  for 
the  chief  of  the  De  Veres.  In  1470  Oxford  fol- 
lowed his  great  brother-in-law  to  France,  hoping, 


THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES.  237 

perhaps,  to  mediate  between  Warwick  and  the  Lan- 
castrian queen  who  had  ever  hated  the  earl  as  her 
mightiest  foe. 

At  this  period  Margaret  of  Anjou  had  seen  forty 
summers,  and,  doubtless,  felt  somewhat  less  strongly 
than  in  earlier  days  the  ambition  which  had  ani- 
mated her  before  Wakefield  and  Hexham.  But  the 
Prince  of  Wales  was  now  in  his  eighteenth  year,  and, 
inspired  by  maternal  love,  she  was  ready,  in  order  to 
regain  the  crown  for  him,  to  brave  new  dangers  and 
endure  fresh  hardships. 

Young  Edward  was,  indeed,  a  prince  on  whom  a 
mother  might  well  look  with  pride.  Every  thing 
had  been  done  to  make  him  worthy  of  the  throne 
he  had  been  born  to  inherit.  Fortescue  had  in- 
structed the  royal  boy  in  the  duties  necessary  for 
his  enacting  the  part  of  "  a  patriot  king ;"  and, 
while  engaged  in  studies  so  grave,  the  prince  had 
not  neglected  those  accomplishments  essential  to  his 
rank.  Ere  leaving  Verdun  he  had  become  a  hand- 
some and  interesting  youth.  His  bearing  Avas  chiv- 
alrous ;  his  manner  graceful ;  his  countenance  of 
almost  feminine  beauty,  shaded  with  fair  hair,  and 
lighted  up  with  a  blue  eye  that  sparkled  with  valor 
and  intelligence.  Such,  arrayed  in  the  short  purple 
jacket  trimmed  with  ermine,  the  badge  of  St.  George 
on  his  breast,  and  a  single  ostrich  feather — his  cog- 
nizance as  Prince  of  Wales — in  his  high  cap,  was 


238  THE  WARS  OF  THE  RUSES. 

the  heir  of  Lancaster,  whom  Margaret  of  Anjou 
presented  to  the  devoted  adherent*  of  the  Red  Kose, 
who,  having  lost  every  thing  else,  came  to  the  French 
court  to  place  their  swords  at  his  disposal. 

Louis  was  now  in  his  element ;  and  to  reconcile 
the  Yorkist  earl  and  the  Lancastrian  queen,  he  ex- 
erted all  his  powers  of  political  intrigue.  His  task, 
indeed,  was  not  easy.  Warwick  had  accused  Mar- 
garet of  plotting  against  his  life,  and  murdering  his 
father.  Margaret  had  charged  Warwick  —  whom 
she  hated  more  bitterly  even  than  she  had  hated  the 
Duke  of  York — with  depriving  her  of  a  crown,  and 
destroying  her  reputation.  The  earl's  wish,  in  the 
event  of  deposing  Edward,  still  was  to  place  Clarence 
on  the  throne  ;  and,  even  since  quarreling  with  the 
Yorkist  king,  he  had  taken  part  against  the  Lancas- 
trians. The  queen  was,  on  her  part,  utterly  averse 
to  friendship  with  her  ancient  adversary.  "My 
wounds,"  she  exclaimed,  "  must  bleed  till  dooms- 
day, when  to  GOD'S  justice  I  will  appeal  for  venge- 
ance !" 

Most  men  would  have  regarded  the  case  as  des- 
perate. But  Louis  viewed  it  in  another  light.  Be- 
tween the  queen  and  the  earl,  indeed,  there  was  a 
wide  gulph,  in  which  ran  the  blood  of  slaughtered 
friends  and  kinsmen ;  but  one  sentiment  the  queen 
without  a  crown  and  the  earl  without  an  earldom 
had  in  common — an  intense  antipathy  to  Edward 


WARWICK  AND  THE  LANCASTRIANS.        239 

of  York.  Moreover,  the  Prince  of  Wales  had,  on 
some  festive  occasion,  seen  Anne  Neville,  the  carl's 
daughter,  and  the  sight  had  inspired  him  with  one 
of  those  romantic  attachments  which  call  into  action 
the  tenderest  sympathies  and  the  noblest  aspirations. 
A  fear  that  Margaret  and  Warwick  would  never 
consent  to  a  union  might  have  daunted  young  Ed- 
ward, but  Louis  had  seen  more  of  the  world.  He 
knew  that  Warwick  could  hardly  see  the  prince 
without  being  covetous  to  have  him  as  a  son-in-law ; 
and  he  knew  that  Margaret  would  be  prompted  by 
the  ambition  of  a  queen,  and  the  tenderness  of  a 
mother,  to  recover  by  compromise  the  crown  which 
she  had  been  unable  to  gain  by  force.  In  one  im- 
portant respect  the  mind  of  Louis  was  made  up — 
that,  on  all  points,  he  would  intrigue  and  negotiate 
with  an  eye  to  his  own  profit. 

Louis  had  correctly  calculated  the  effect  of  cir- 
cumstances on  those  with  whom  he  had  to  deal. 
The  earl,  being  flesh  and  blood,  could  not  resist  the 
prospect  of  a  throne  for  his  daughter,  and  indicated 
his  readiness  to  make  peace.  Margaret  was  not 
quite  so  reasonable ;  but,  at  length,  she  yielded  so 
far  as  to  agree  to  a  meeting  with  the  man  whom 
she  had  accused  of  piercing  her  heart  with  wounds 
that  could  never  be  healed. 

Accordingly,  a  conference  was  appointed  ;  and  in 
June,  1470,  Warwick,  in  the  Castle  of  Amboise,  met 


240  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

the  queen,  from  the  brow  of  whose  husband  he  had 
torn  the  English  crown,  and  the  prince,  the  illegiti- 
macy of  whose  birth  he  had  proclaimed  at  Paul's 
Cross.  Now,  however,  the  earl  was  prepared  to  give 
his  hand  in  friendship  to  one,  and  his  daughter  as 
wife  to  the  other.  He  offered  to  restore  Henry  of 
Windsor,  if  Margaret  would  consent  to  unite  the 
Prince  of  Wales  to  Anne  Neville.  Margaret,  how- 
ever, felt  the  sharpness  of  the  sacrifice,  and,  after 
some  hesitation,  asked  for  time  to  consider  the  pro- 
posal. 

Ere  the  time  expired,  the  queen's  aversion  to  the 
match  was  strengthened.  She  showed  Louis  a  let- 
ter from  England,  in  Avhich  the  hand  of  Edward's 
daughter,  Elizabeth,  then  recognized  as  heiress  to 
the  crown,  was  offered  to  her  son.  "  Is  not  that," 
she  asked,  "  a  more  profitable  party  ?  And  if  it  be 
necessary  to  forgive,  is  it  not  more  queenly  to  treat 
with  Edward  than  with  a  twofold  rebel  '"?"  Louis, 
who  was  bent  on  business,  did  not  relish  such  talk 
as  this.  To  Margaret  he  became  so  cool,  that  she 
could  hardly  help  seeing  he  would  have  thought 
little  of  throwing  her  interests  overboard.  To  War- 
wick he  was  all  kindness,  declaring  that  he  cared 
far  more  for  the  earl  than  he  did  either  for  Margaret 
or  her  son,  and  even  giving  an  assurance  that  he 
would  aid  Warwick  to  conquer  England  for  any  one 
he  chose. 


THE  MARRIAGE  OF  ANNE  NEVILLE.         211 

Margaret  perceived  that  it  was  no  time  for  ex- 
hibitions of  vindictive  feeling ;  and,  with  undis- 
guised reluctance,  she  consented  to  the  match.  Aft- 
er thus  sacrificing  her  long-cherished  prejudices,  the 
exiled  queen  proceeded  to  Angers,  on  a  visit  to  the 
Countess  of  Warwick  and  to  Anne  Neville,  at  that 
time  in  her  sixteenth  year.  Preparations  were  then 
made  for  the  marriage  which  was  to  cement  the  new 
alliance,  and,  in  July,  the  daughter  of  "The  Stout 
Earl"  was  solemnly  espoused  to  the  son  of  "The 
Foreign  Woman." 

About  this  time  there  arrived  at  Calais  an  En- 
glish lady  of  quality,  who  stated  that  she  was  on  her 
way  to  join  the  Duchess  of  Clarence.  Vauclerc, 
believing  that  she  brought  overtures  of  peace  from 
Edward  to  Warwick,  and  feeling  a  strong  interest 
in  the  reconciliation  of  the  king  and  the  earl,  allow- 
ed her  to  pass,  and  she  found  her  way  to  Angers, 
where  the  marriage  was  then  being  celebrated.  The 
errand  of  this  lady  was  not  quite  so  amiable  as  Vau- 
clerc had  supposed.  On  arriving  at  Angers,  she 
revealed  herself  to  Clarence  as  having  been  sent  by 
his  brothers  to  tempt  him  to  betray  Warwick — to 
implore  him,  at  all  events,  not  to  aid  in  the  subver- 
sion of  their  father's  house. 

Clarence  was  just  in  the  state  of  mind  to  be  work- 
ed upon  by  a  skillful  diplomatist;  and  the  female 
embassador  executed  her  mission  with  a  craft  that 

Q 


242  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Louis  might  have  envied.  The  duke,  so  long  as  he 
had  simply  been  taking  part  in  a  feud  between  War- 
wick and  the  Woodvilles,  was  all  zeal  for  the  earl, 
and  not  without  hope  that  he  himself  might  profit 
bj  the  strife ;  but  no  sooner  did  the  weak  prince 
find  himself  engaged  with  the  adherents  of  the  Red 
Rose  in  a  contest  to  substitute  the  heir  of  the  house, 
of  Lancaster  for  the  chief  of  the  house  of  York, 
than  he  began  to  pause  and  ponder.  At  this  stage 
the  lady  of  quality  appeared  at  Angers,  and  man- 
aged her  part  of  the  business  with  the  requisite  dex- 
terity ;  in  fact,  Clarence  declared  that  he  was  not 
so  great  an  enemy  to  his  brother  as  was  supposed, 
and  he  promised,  significantly,  to  prove  that  such 
was  the  case  when  he  reached  England.  The  lady 
departed  from  Angers,  and  returned  to  Edward's 
court  with  a  full  assurance  that  her  mission  would 
produce  important  results. 

The  bridal  of  the  prince  and  Anne  Neville  hav- 
ing been  celebrated,  Warwick  and  Oxford  prepared 
to  return  to  England.  Fortune,  with  fickle  smile, 
cheered  the  king-maker's  enterprise.  Every  thing 
was  promising ;  for  the  English  people,  since  War- 
wick had  been  exiled  to  a  foreign  strand,  complained 
that  England  without  "  The  Stout  Earl"  was  like  a 
world  without  a  sun ;  and  day  after  day  came  mes- 
sengers to  tell  that  thousands  of  men  were  ready  to 
take  up  arms  in  his  cause  whenever  he  set  foot  on 
his  native  soil. 


WARWICK'S  RETURN  TO  ENGLAND.         243 

Delay  was  not  to  be  thought  of  under  such  cir- 
cumstances. The  earl  did  not  lose  any  time.  With 
Pembroke  and  Clarence,  and  Oxford  and  George  De 
Vere,  Oxford's  brother,  he  went  on  board  the  fleet 
that  lay  at  Harfleur.  The  French  coast  was  not, 
indeed,  clear ;  for  Burgundy  had  fitted  out  a  fleet, 
which  blockaded  Harfleur  and  the  mouth  of  the 
Seine.  But  even  the  elements  favored  Warwick  at 
this  crisis  of  his  career.  A  storm  arising  dispersed 
the  duke's  fleet ;  and,  next  morning,  the  weather 
being  fine,  the  earl  and  the  Lancastrians  gave  their 
sails  to  the  wind,  and,  confident  of  bringing  their 
enterprise  to  a  successful  issue,  left  behind  them  the 
coast  of  Normandy. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  EARL'S  RETURN  AND  EDWARD'S  FLIGHT. 

WHEN  Warwick,  in  France,  was  forming  an  alli- 
ance with  Margaret  of  Anjou,  the  people  of  En- 
gland were  manifesting  their  anxiety  for  "The  Stout 
Earl's"  return.*  Edward  of  York,  meanwhile,  ap- 
peared to  consider  the  kingdom  nothing  the  worse 
for  the  king-maker's  absence.  He  even  ridiculed 
the  idea  of  taking  any  precautions  to  guard  against 
the  invasion  which  was  threatened.  Instead  of  mak- 
ing preparations  for  defense,  the  king,  after  the  earl's 
departure  from  England,  occupied  himself  wholly 

*  "The  absence  of  the  Earl  of  Warwick,"  says  Hall, 
"made  the  common  people  daily  more  and  more  to  long, 
and  be  desirous  to  have  the  sight  of  him,  and  presently  to 
behold  his  personage.  For  they  judged  that  the  sun  was 
dearly  taken  from  the  world  when  he  was  absent.  In  such 
high  estimation,  among  the  people,  was  his  name,  that 
neither  no  one  man  they  had  in  so  much  honor,  neither  no 
OIK?  person  they  so  much  praised,  or,  to  the  clouds,  so  highly 
extolled.  What  shall  I  say?  His  only  name  sounded  in 
every  song,  in  the  mouth  of  the  common  people,  and  his 
person  was  represented  with  great  reverence  when  public 
plays  or  open  triumphs  should  be  showed  or  set  forth  abroad 
in  the  streets." 


THE  LANDING  IN  DEVON.  245 

with  the  ladies  of  his  court ;  going  in  their  com- 
pany on  hunting  excursions,  and  diverting  himself 
with  every  kind  of  pleasant  pastime. 

The  Duke  of  Burgundy  was  by  no  means  so  cool 
as  the  King  of  England.  In  fact,  Charles  the  Rash 
was  quite  aware  of  the  degree  of  danger  to  which 
his  brother-in-law  was  exposed,  and  gave  him  time- 
ly warning  not  only  that  an  invasion  was  projected, 
but  of  the  very  port  at  which  Warwick  intended  to 
land.  "By  GOD'S  blessed  lady,"  exclaimed  Ed- 
ward, "  I  wish  the  earl  would  land,  and  when  we 
have  beaten  him  in  England,  I  only  ask  our  brother 
of  Burgundy  to  keep  such  a  good  look-out  at  sea  as 
to  prevent  his  return  to  France." 

The  wish  which  the  king,  with  too  much  confi- 
dence in  his  resources,  thus  expressed,  was  speedily 
to  be  gratified.  About  the  middle  of  September, 
1470,  while  he  was  in  the  north,  suppressing  an  in- 
surrection headed  by  Lord  Fitzhugh,  Warwick  sud- 
denly landed  on  the  coast  of  Devon,  and  proclaimed 
that  he  came  to  put  down  falsehood  and  oppression, 
and  to  have  law  and  justice  fairly  administered.  It 
soon  appeared  that  the  popularity  of  the  earl  gave 
him  a  power  that  was  irresistible.  A  few  months 
earlier,  when  he  was  escaping  to  France,  a  mag- 
nificent reward  had  been  offered  by  the  king  to  any 
man  who  should  seize  the  rebellious  baron ;  but 
now  that  the  earl  was  once  more  in  England,  with 


210  TUP:  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Oxford  by  his  side,  all  the  heroes  of  the  Bound  Ta- 
ble, if  they  had  been  in  the  flesh,  would  have  shrunk 
from  the  hazard  of  such  an  exploit.  Long  ere  he 
landed,  the  Nevilles  and  De  Veres  were  mustering 
their  merry-men ;  a  few  days  later  warriors  of  all 
ranks  were  flocking  to  his  standard  ;  and,  at  the 
head  of  a  numerous  army,  he  marched  toward  Lon- 
don. Being  informed,  however,  that  the  capital 
was  favorable  to  his  project,  and  that  the  king  had 
retraced  his  steps  to  Nottingham,  Warwick  turned 
toward  the  Trent,  summoning  men  to  his  standard 
as  he  went,  and  intending  to  give  Edward  battle. 

Meanwhile,  the  king's  situation  was  gradually  be- 
coming desperate.  His  soldiers,  giving  way  to  dis- 
content, began  to  desert ;  and,  while  he  was  in  Lin- 
coln, near  the  River  Welland,  circumstances  occurred 
to  prove  the  prudence  of  Burgundy's  warnings,  and 
to  remove  Edward's  illusions. 

At  the  time  when  Warwick  was  flying  from  En- 
gland, Edward,  in  defiance  of  prudential  considera- 
tions, took  one  of  those  steps  which  sometimes  cost 
a  crown.  After  his  victory  at  Hexham,  Lord  Mon- 
tagu had  been  gifted  with  the  earldom  of  Northum- 
berland. At  that  time  the  young  chief  of  the  Per- 
cies  was  a  Lancastrian  captive  in  the  Tower  or  an 
exile  in  Scotland ;  but  the  mediation  of  friends  pre- 
vailed, and  the  heir  of  Hotspur  was  reconciled  to 
the  heir  of  the  Mortimers.  Edward  deemed  the 


FLIGHT  OF  THE  KING.  21? 

opportunity  favorable  for  weakening  the  Nevilles, 
and  encouraged  the  Northumbrians  to  petition  for 
the  restoration  of  the  house  of  Percy.  The  North- 
umbrians did  petition ;  Montagu  resigned  the  earl- 
dom ;  and  the  king,  to  console  him  for  his  loss,  ele- 
vated the  victor  of  Hexham  to  the  rank  of  marquis. 
Montagu  took  the  marquisate,  but  he  indulged  in  a 
bitter  jest  and  bided  his  time. 

It  happened  that,  when  Warwick  landed,  Montagu 
had  mustered  ten  thousand  men  in  the  king's  name. 
Hearing  of  the  earl's  return,  these  soldiers  caught 
the  popular  contagion,  and  evinced  so  strong  an  in- 
clination to  desert  their  standard,  that  Montagu 
saw  that  the  hour  for  retaliation  was  come ;  and, 
after  remarking  that  "  Edward  had  taken  North- 
umberland from  him,  and  given  him  a  marquisate, 
but  only  a  pie's  nest  to  maintain  it  withal,"  he 
frankly  added,  "  I  shall  decidedly  take  the  part  of 
the  earl." 

The  king  was  that  night  asleep  in  the  royal  tent 
when  aroused  by  the  chief  of  his  minstrels,  and  in- 
formed that  Montagu  and  some  other  lords  had 
mounted  their  horses  and  ordered  their  soldiers  to 
raise  the  shout  of  "  GOD  bless  King  Henry  !"  Ed- 
ward, completely  taken  by  surprise,  rose  and  buckled 
on  his  armor ;  but,  resistance  being  out  of  the  ques- 
tion, he  determined  to  fly.  Having  exhorted  his 
followers  to  go  and  join  "Warwick,  pretending  great 


248  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROS  I 

friendship,  but  secretly  retaining  their  allegiance, 
the  king  rode  toward  Lynn,  accompanied  by  about 
a  hundred  knights  and  gentlemen,  among  whom 
were  his  brother,  Richard,  Duke  of  Gloucester ;  hi* 
brother-in-law,  Anthony  Woodville,  Earl  Rivers ; 
his  Chamberlain,  "William,  Lord  Hastings ;  and  Wil- 
liam Fiennes,  Lord  Say,  son  of  that  nobleman  who 
had  been  put  to  death  during  Jack  Cade's  insurrec- 
tion. At  Lynn  the  king  found  an  English  ship  and 
two  Dutch  vessels  ready  to  put  to  sea.  On  board 
of  these  Edward  and  his  friends  hastily  embarked ; 
and,  leaving  Warwick  and  Oxford  masters  of  En- 
gland, set  sail  for  the  territories  of  Burgundy. 

Within  St.  Paul's  Church-yard,  to  the  north  of  the 
Cathedral,  Cardinal  Kempe  had  erected  a  cross  to 
remind  passers-by  to  pray  for  the  souls  of  those 
buried  beneath  their  feet.  To  preach  at  Paul's 
Cross  was  an  object  of  clerical  ambition  ;  and,  when 
service  was  there  performed,  the  multitude  gathered 
round  the  pulpit,  while  the  wealthy  citizens  and 
municipal  functionaries  occupied  galleries  so  con- 
structed as  to  shelter  them  when  the  weather  hap- 
pened to  be  inclement.  On  the  Sunday  after  Mi- 
chaelmas, 1470,  Dr.  Goddard  was  the  divine  who 
officiated ;  and  the  doctor,  being  one  of  Warwick's 
chaplains,  preached  a  political  sermon,  advocating 
the  claims  of  the  royal  captive  in  the  Tower,  and 
setting  forth  the  earl's  patriotic  intentions  in  such  a 


THE  SANCTUARY.  249 

light  that  the  audience  could  not  help  wishing  well 
to  the  enterprise. 

The  metropolis,  thus  excited,  conceived  a  strong 
desire  for  Warwick's  success  ;  and,  when  it  became 
known  that  King  Edward  had  fled  from  the  Wei- 
land,  and  that  the  earl  was  marching  upon  London, 
the  partisans  of  the  house  of  York,  seeing  that  re- 
sistance would  be  vain,  hastened  to  take  refuge  in 
the  religious  houses  that  had  the  privilege  of  afford- 
ing sanctuary. 

Hard  by  the  Palace  of  Westminster,  in  the  fif- 
teenth century,  stood  a  massive  edifice,  with  a  church 
built  over  it  in  the  form  of  a  cross.  This  structure, 
which  was  a  little  town  in  itself,  and  strongly  enough 
fortified  to  stand  a  siege,  had  been  erected  by  Ed- 
ward the  Confessor  as  a  place  of  refuge  to  the  dis- 
tressed, and,  according  to  tradition  and  the  belief  of 
the  superstitious,  it  had  been  "  by  St.  Peter  in  his 
own  person,  accompanied  with  great  numbers  of 
angels,  by  night  specially  hallowed  and  dedicated  to 
GOD." 

Within  the  walls  of  this  sanctuary,  at  the  time 
when  Edward  of  York  was  flying  to  the  territories 
of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  and  Warwick  was  ad- 
vancing upon  London,  Elizabeth  Woodville,  leaving 
the  Tower,  and  escaping  down  the  Thames  in  a 
barge,  took  refuge  with  her  three  daughters,  her 
mother,  the  Duchess  of  Bedford,  and  her  friend,  the 


250  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Lady  Scroope.  There,  forsaken  by  her  court,  and 
exposed  to  penury,  the  unhappy  woman  gave  birth 
to  her  son  Edward.  This  boy,  "  the  child  of  mis- 
ery," was  "  baptized  in  tears."  "  Like  a  poor  man's 
child  was  he  christened,"  says  the  chronicler,  "his 
godfather  being  the  Abbot  and  Prior  of  Westmin- 
ster." 

Meanwhile,  on  the  Gth  of  October,  Warwick  en- 
tered London  in  triumph  ;  and,  going  directly  to  the 
Tower,  the  great  earl  released  Henry  of  Windsor, 
proclaimed  him  king,  and  escorted  him  from  a  prison 
to  a  palace.  After  this  the  king-maker  called  a 
Parliament,  which  branded  Edward  as  a  usurper, 
attainted  his  adherents  as  traitors,  restored  to  the 
Lancastrians  their  titles  and  estates,  and  passed  an 
act  entailing  the  crown  on  Edward  of  Lancaster, 
and,  failing  that  hopeful  prince,  on  George,  Duke 
of  Clarence. 

So  great  was  the  earl's  power  and  popularity  that 
he  accomplished  the  restoration  of  Lancaster  almost 
without  drawing  his  sword ;  and  no  man  suffered 
death  upon  the  scaffold,  with  the  exception  of  John 
Tiptoft,  Earl  of  Worcester,  whose  cruelties,  exercised 
in  spite  of  learning  and  a  love  of  letters  that  have 
made  his  name  famous,  had  exasperated  the  people 
to  phrcnsy,  and  won  him  tho  name  of  "  the  Butcher." 
Warwick  was  not  a  man,  save  when  on  fields  of 
fight,  to  delight  in  the  shedding  of  blood  ;  and,  even 


WARWICK'S  TRIUMPH.  251 

had  it  been  otherwise,  his  high  pride  would  have 
made  him  scorn  in  the  hour  of  triumph  the  idea  of 
striking  helpless  foes. 

At  Calais  the  news  of  the  earl's  triumph  created 
no  less  excitement  than  in  England.  The  intelli- 
gence might,  under  some  circumstances,  have  caused 
Governor  Vauclerc  considerable  dismay  and  no  slight 
apprehension  that  his  conduct  while  the  earl  was 
in  adversity  would  place  him  in  a  perilous  predica- 
ment. Vauclerc,  however,  had  his  consolation,  and 
must  have  chuckled  as  he  reflected  on  the  prudence 
he  had  exercised.  The  crafty  Gascon,  doubtless, 
congratulated  himself  heartily  on  his  foresight,  and 
felt  assured  that  in  spite  of  Edward's  patent  and 
Burgundy's  pension,  the  devotion  he  had  expressed 
and  the  intelligence  he  had  given  to  Warwick  would, 
now  that  the  political  wind  had  changed,  secure  him 
a  continuance  of  place  and  power. 

But,  whatever  on  the  occasion  might  have  been 
Governor  Vauclerc' s  sentiments,  Warwick's  triumph 
produced  a  sudden  change  in  the  politics  of  Calais. 
The  city,  so  often  the  refuge  of  Yorkists  in  distress, 
manifested  unequivocal  symptoms  of  joy  at  a  rev- 
olution which  restored  the  house  of  Lancaster  ;  and 
the  Caiesians,  forgetting  that,  from  selfish  motives, 
they  had,  six  months  earlier,  refused  Warwick  ad- 
mittance within  their  walls,  painted  the  white  cross 
of  Neville  over  their  doors,  and  endeavored,  in  vari- 


252  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES 

ous  ways,  to  testify  excessive  respect  for  the  great 
noble  who  could  make  and  unmake  kings.  As  for 
the  garrison,  which,  a  few  months  earlier,  could  not 
be  trusted,  every  man  was  now  ready  to  drink  the 
earl's  health  ;  every  tongue  sounded  the  praises  of 
the  king-maker ;  every  cap  was  conspicuously  orna- 
mented witli  the  Ragged  Staff,  known,  far  and  wide, 
as  the  badge  of  the  Countess  of  Warwick. 

Fortune,  which  seldom  does  things  by  halves, 
seemed  to  have  conducted  the  earl  to  a  triumph  too 
complete  to  be  reversed ;  and  if  any  one,  with  the  gift 
of  political  prophecy,  had  ventured  to  predict  that, 
within  six  months,  King  Edward  would  ride  into 
London  amid  the  applause  of  the  populace,  he  would 
have  been  regarded  as  a  madman.  Every  circum- 
stance rendered  such  an  event  improbable  in  the  ex- 
treme. The  fickle  goddess  appeared  to  have  forever 
deserted  the  White  Rose,  and  to  have  destined  the 
sun  of  York  never  more  to  shine  in  merry  England. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

THE    EARL    OF   WORCESTER. 

WHILE  Edward  is  in  exile ;  and  Elizabeth  Wood' 
ville  in  the  sanctuary ;  and  Warwick  holding  the 
reins  of  power ;  and  Margaret  of  Anjou  and  her  son 
on  the  Continent ;  we  may  refer  with  brevity  to  the 
melancholy  fate  of  John  Tiptoft,  Earl  of  Worces- 
ter, celebrated  on  the  same  page  of  history  as  "  the 
Butcher"  and  as  "  the  paragon  of  learning  and  the 
patron  of  Caxton" — the  most  accomplished  among 
the  nobility  of  his  age,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the 
only  man  "who,  during  the  Yorkist  domination, 
had  committed  such  excesses  as  to  merit  the  pun- 
ishment of  death  at  the  Lancastrian  restoration." 

Though  not  of  high  patrician  rank  like  the  Nev- 
illes or  the  De  Veres,  Worcester  had  claims  to  con- 
siderable respect  in  an  ancestral  point  of  view.  One 
of  the  family  of  Tiptoft,  after  fighting  in  the  Barons' 
Wars  against  Simon  de  Montfort,  accompanied  the 
victor  of  Evesham  when  that  great  prince  fared 
forth  to  the  Holy  Land  to  signalize  his  prowess 
against  the  enemies  of  his  religion ;  and  the  de- 
scendants of  the  crusader  made  their  name  known 
to  fame  in  those  wars  which  our  Plantagenet  kings 


254  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

carried  on  in  Scotland  and  in  France.  Early  in 
the  fifteenth  century,  Lord  Tiptoft,  the  chief  of  the 
race,  espoused  the  sister  and  co-heir  of  Edward 
Charlton,  Lord  Powis ;  and,  about  the  year  1427, 
their  son,  John  Tiptoft,  first  saw  the  light  at  Ever- 
ton,  in  the  shire  of  Cambridge. 

The  heir  of  the  Tiptofts  was  educated  at  Baliol 
College,  Oxford ;  and  at  that  ancient  seat  of  learn- 
ing pursued  his  studies  with  such  energy  and  en- 
thusiasm as  raised  the  admiration  of  his  contem- 
poraries, and  laid  the  foundation  of  the  fame  which 
he  has  enjoyed  with  posterity.  When  in  his  teens, 
he  became,  by  his  father's  death,  one  of  the  barons 
of  England,  and,  some  time  later,  in  1449,  he  found 
himself  elevated,  by  Henry  of  Windsor,  to  the  earl- 
dom of  Worcester.  He  had  enjoyed  this  new  dig- 
nity for  six  years,  and  reached  the  age  of  twenty- 
eight,  when  blood  was  first  shed  at  St.  Albans  in 
the  Wars  of  the  Roses. 

Worcester  was  a  man  of  action  as  well  as  a 
scholar.  When,  therefore,  war  commenced,  he  was, 
doubtless,  looked  upon  by  both  parties  as  a  desirable 
partisan.  The  accomplished  earl,  however,  appears 
to  have  been  in  no  haste  to  risk  his  head  and  his 
baronies  in  the  quarrel  either  of  York  or  Lancaster. 
At  first,  he  hesitated,  wavered,  and  refrained  from 
committing  himself  as  to  the  merits  of  the  contro- 
versy, and,  finally,  instead  of  plucking  either  "  the 


WORCESTER'S  STUDIES  AND  TRAVELS.    255 

pale  or  the  purple  rose,"  avoided  the  hazard  of 
making  a  choice  by  leaving  the  country  and  repair- 
ing to  the  Holy  Land. 

After  indulging  his  zeal  as  a  Christian  and  his 
curiosity  as  a  man,  during  his  visit  to  Jerusalem, 
Worcester  turned  toward  Italy ;  and  having  beheld 
the  wonders  of  Venice — then  in  all  the  pride  of 
wealth  and  commercial  prosperity — and  resided  for 
a  time  at  Padua — then  famous  as  the  chief  seat  of 
European  learning — he  proceeded  to  Rome  to  glad- 
den his  eyes  with  a  sight  of  the  Vatican  Library. 
While  in  Rome  Worcester  had  an  interview  with 
Pius  the  Second,  and  an  interesting  scene  rendered 
the  occasion  memorable.  On  being  presented  to  the 
Pope,  better  known  in  England  as  ^Eneas  Sylvius, 
the  young  English  nobleman  addressed  to  him  a 
Latin  oration,  to  which  the  learned  pontiff  listened 
with  tears  of  admiration. 

As  soon  as  the  news  spread  over  Europe  that  the 
Lancastrians  had  been  utterly  routed  on  Towton 
Field,  and  that  Edward  of  York  was  firmly  seated 
on  the  English  throne,  Worcester  returned  home. 
During  his  residence  in  Italy  he  had  purchased 
many  volumes  of  manuscripts  ;  and  of  these  he  con- 
tributed a  liberal  share  to  the  library  at  Oxford, 
whose  shelves  had  formerly  profited  by  the  dona- 
tions of  "The  Good  Duke  Humphrey."  When 
abroad,  Worcester  had  evinced  such  an  eagerness 


•j.-.'i  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSI 

to  possess  himself  of  books,  that  it  was  said  he 
plundered  the  libraries  of  Italy  to  enrich  those  of 
England. 

The  king  received  Worcester  with  favor,  and  treat- 
ed him  with  high  consideration.  Soon  after  his  re- 
turn the  learned  earl  presided  at  the  trial  of  John, 
Earl  of  Oxford,  and  his  son,  Aubrey  De  Vere  ;  and, 
no  longer  inclined  to  waver,  he  buckled  on  the  mail 
of  a  warrior,  and  accompanied  Edward  to  the  north 
of  England  on  his  expedition  against  the  Lancastri- 
ans. Meanwhile,  he  had  been  intrusted  with  high 
offices  ;  and  appears  to  have  at  the  same  time  exer- 
cised the  functions  of  Treasurer  of  the  King's  Ex- 
chequer and  Constable  of  the  Tower  of  London, 
Chancellor  of  Ireland,  and  Justice  of  North  Wales. 

For  seven  years  after  his  return  from  Italy,  Wor- 
cester conducted  himself  with  credit  and  distinc- 
tion. Evil  communications,  however,  corrupt  good 
manners.  At  a  critical  period  the  intellectual  baron 
appears  to  have  fallen  under  the  influence  of  Eliza- 
beth Woodville  ;  and  to  have  been  used  by  that  un- 
scrupulous woman  to  perpetrate  acts  of  tyranny  that 
ultimately  cost  him  his  life. 

Of  the  great  Norman  barons  whose  swords  had 
won  them  dominion  over  the  Celts  of  Ireland  the 
Fitzgeralds  were  among  the  proudest  and  most  pow- 
erful. One  branch  of  the  family  held  the  earldom 
of  Desmond ;  another  that  of  Kildare ;  and  both  ex- 


THE  EARL  OF  DESMOND.  257 

ercised  much  influence  in  the  provinces  subject  to 
their  sway.  In  the  contest  between  the  rival  Plan- 
tagenets,  the  Fitzgeralds  adopted  the  White  Rose  as 
their  badge  ;  and  Thoma?,  eighth  Earl  of  Desmond, 
fought  by  Edward's  side  in  those  battles  which  won 
the  crown  for  the  house  of  York. 

When  the  question  of  Edward's  marriage  with 
Elizabeth  Woodville  was  agitated,  Desmond  was 
naturally  consulted ;  and  the  Norman  earl  took  a 
different  course  from  such  pickthanks  as  Sir  John 
Howard.  Being  frank  and  honest,  he  unhesitating- 
ly pointed  out  the  king's  imprudence,  and  perhaps 
became,  in  consequence,  one  of  those  people  for  whom 
the  widow  of  Sir  John  Grey  did  not  entertain  any 
particular  affection.  But,  however  that  may  have 
been,  Edward  appointed  his  old  comrade-in-arms 
deputy  to  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  who  was  then  Lord- 
lieutenant  of  Ireland,  and  when  Desmond  was  pre- 
paring to  depart  from  London,  the  king  asked  if 
there  was  any  thing  in  his  policy  that  could  be 
amended.  The  earl,  with  more  zeal  for  his  sover- 
eign's service  than  respect  for  his  sovereign's  mar- 
riage vow,  advised  Edward  to  divorce  Elizabeth 
Woodville,  and  to  marry  some  woman  worthy  of 
sharing  the  English  throne. 

Edward  was  not  the  most  faithful  of  husbands ; 
and  Elizabeth  Woodville  may  not.  at  first,  have  been 

the  most  patient  of  wives,  though    she  afterward. 
R 


25^  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

learned  to  submit  with  a  good  grace.  At  all  event?, 
they  had  sundry  domestic  quarrels;  and  Edward, 
during  some  altercation  with  the  queen,  said,  "  Had 
I  hearkened  to  Desmond's  advice,  your  insolent  spirit 
would  have  been  humbled." 

The  queen's  curiosity  was  excited  in  the  highest 
degree  ;  and,  unluckily  for  Desmond,  she  determ- 
ined to  find  out  what  advice  he  had  given.  On 
eliciting  the  truth,  Elizabeth  vowed  revenge;  and 
so  strenuous  were  her  efforts  to  effect  the  earl's 
ruin,  that  she  succeeded  at  length  in  having  him 
sentenced  to  lose  both  his  office  and  his  head.  Un- 
fortunately for  Worcester,  he  was  appointed  to  suc- 
ceed Desmond  as  deputy ;  and,  on  arriving  in  Ire- 
land to  assume  his  functions,  he  caused  the  sentence 
of  decapitation  against  his  predecessor  to  be  exe- 
cuted. Under  any  circumstances,  the  duty  which 
the  new  deputy  had  thus  to  perform  would  have 
been  invidious.  If  we  are  to  credit  the  story  gener- 
ally told,  Worcester  executed  the  sentence  under 
circumstances,  not  only  invidious,  but  disgraceful  and 
dishonorable. 

According  to  the  popular  account  of  the  execu- 
tion of  Desmond,  the  king  had  no  more  idea  than 
the  child  unborn  that  his  old  friend  was  to  fall  a 
victim  to  female  malice.  It  is  said  that  Elizabeth 
Woodville,  having  by  stealth  obtained  the  royal  sig- 
net, affixed  the  seal  to  a  warrant  for  the  Irish  earl's 


EXECUTION  OF  DESMOND.  259 

execution,  and  that  Worcester,  in  order  to  possess 
himself  of  some  part  of  Desmond's  estates,  instantly 
acted  on  this  document.  It  is  added  that,  on  hear- 
ing of  the  transaction,  Edward  was  so  enraged,  that 
Elizabeth,  terrified  at  her  husband's  wrath,  fled  from 
him  to  a  place  of  safety. 

Desmond  was  executed  at  Drogheda ;  and,  when 
his  head  fell,  the  Fitzgeralds  rose  as  one  man  to 
avenge  the  death  of  their  chief.  Worcester,  how- 
ever, far  from  being  daunted,  stood  his  ground  fear- 
lessly, and  remained  in  Ireland  till  1470,  when  War- 
wick finally  broke  with  the  king.  As  Clarence 
took  part  with  his  father-in-law,  his  posts  as  Con- 
stable of  England  and  Lord-lieutenant  of  Ireland 
were  forfeited,  and  Edward  bestowed  them  upon 
Worcester. 

On  the  occasion  of  his  promotion  to  the  lord- 
lieutenancy,  Worcester  returned  to  England.  On 
arriving  at  Southampton,  he  was  commanded  by 
the  king  to  sit  in  judgment  on  several  gentlemen 
and  yeomen  taken  by  Anthony  Woodville  in  some 
ships  during  a  skirmish  at  sea.  Worcester,  who  ap- 
pears to  have  been  the  reverse  of  squeamish  about 
shedding  blood,  condemned  twenty  of  them  to  be 
"  drawn,  hanged,  and  quartered."  Among  these 
was  John  Clapham,  the  squire  who  figured  so  con- 
spicuously at  Banbury. 

Worcester  had  hardly  rendered  this  service  to 


260  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSE? 

Edward  when  Warwick  landed,  and  carried  ev- 
ery thing  before  him.  The  revolution  which  re- 
stored Henry  of  Windsor,  and  placed  England  in 
the  power  of  Warwick  and  his  brother-in-law,  the 
Earl  of  Oxford,  was  accomplished  with  so  little  re- 
sistance, that  scarcely  a  drop  of  blood  was  shed. 
Worcester,  however,  was  not  allowed  to  escape. 
Though  a  man  of  rare  accomplishments  for  his  age, 
and  one  who  endeavored  to  inspire  his  countrymen 
with  that  respect  for  letters  which  he  himself  felt, 
the  earl  had,  while  constable  of  the  Tower,  been 
guilty  of  fearful  severities  against  the  Lancastrians ; 
and  he  was  spoken  of  among  the  populace  as  "  The 
Butcher  of  England."* 

Hearing  of  the  king's  flight,  and  not  unconscious 
of  his  own  unpopularity,  Worcester  was  under  the 
necessity  of  shifting  for  himself  as  he  best  could. 
His  efforts  to  escape,  however,  were  fruitless.  Be- 
ing pursued  into  the  county  of  Huntingdon,  he  was 

*  "It  is  vain,"  says  Sir  E.  Buhver  Lytton,  "that  some 
writers  would  seek  to  cleanse  the  memory  of  the  learned  no- 
bleman from  the  stain  of  cruelty,  by  rhetorical  remarks  on 
the  improbability  that  a  cultivator  of  letters  should  be  of  a 
ruthless  disposition .  The  general  philosophy  of  this  defense 
is  erroneous.  In  ignorant  ages,  a  man  of  superior  acquire- 
ments is  not  necessarily  made  humane  by  the  cultivation  of 
his  intellect;  on  the  contrary,  he  too  often  learns  to  It  ok 
upon  the  uneducated  herd  as  things  of  another  clay.  Of 
this  truth  all  history  is  pregnant." 


THE  BUTCHER  BEHEADED.       261 

found  concealed  in  a  tree  in  the  forest  of  Weybridge, 
dragged  from  his  hiding-place,  and  carried  to  the 
Tower  of  London. 

"Worcester  was,  without  delay,  brought  to  trial. 
The  Earl  of  Oxford  presided  on  the  occasion ;  and 
the  lord-lieutenant  was  charged  with  having,  while 
deputy,  been  guilty  of  extreme  cruelty  to  two  orphan 
boys,  the  infant  sons  of  the  Earl  of  Desmond.  On 
this  charge  he  was  condemned.  He  was  forthwith 
executed  on  Tower  Hill,  and  his  headless  trunk  was 
buried  in  the  monastery  of  the  Black  Friars. 

Whatever  the  faults  of  Worcester,  Caxton  seems 
to  have  regarded  him  with  respect  and  admiration. 
"  Oh,  good  blessed  LORD,"  exclaims  that  English 
worthy,  '•  what  great  loss  was  it  of  that  noble,  vir- 
tuous, and  well-disposed  lord,  the  Earl  of  Worcester. 
What  worship  had  he  at  Rome,  in  the  presence  of 
our  holy  father  the  pope,  and  in  all  other  places 
unto  his  death.  The  axe  then  did,  at  one  blow, 
cut  off  more  learning  than  was  in  the  heads  of  all 
the  surviving  nobility." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  BANISHED   KING. 

THE  adventures  of  Edward  of  York,  when,  at  the 
age  of  thirty,  driven  from  the  kingdom  by  the  Earl 
of  Warwick,  seem  rather  like  the  creation  of  a  nov- 
elist's fancy  than  events  in  real  life.  Scarcely  had 
he  escaped  from  his  mutinous  army  on  the  Welland, 
taken  shipping  at  Lynn,  and  sailed  for  the  Burgun- 
dian  territories,  trusting  to  the  hospitality  of  his 
brother-in-law,  than  he  was  beset  with  a  danger 
hardly  less  pressing  than  that  from  which  he  had 
fled.  Freed  from  that  peril,  and  disappointed  of  a 
cordial  welcome,  an  impulse,  which  he  had  neither 
the  will  nor  the  power  to  resist,  brought  back  the 
dethroned  and  banished  prince,  with  a  handful  of 
adherents,  resolved  either  to  be  crowned  with  laurel 
or  covered  with  cypress. 

During  the  Wars  of  the  Roses,  the  narrow  seas 
were  infested  by  the  Easterlings,  who  sailed  as  pri- 
vateers as  well  as  traders,  and  did  a  little  business 
in  the  way  of  piracy  besides.  At  the  time  of  Ed- 
ward's exile,  the  Easterlings  were  at  war  both  with 
the  house  of  Valois  and  that  of  Plantagenet,  and 
had  recently  inflicted  much  damage  on  ships  be- 


EDWARD  AM)  THK  EASTERLINGS.          W.I 

longing  to  the  subjects  of  England.  Unluckily  for 
Edward,  some  of  the  Easterlings  happened  to  be 
hovering  on  the  coast  when  he  sailed  from  Lynn, 
and  scarcely  had  the  shores  of  England  vanished 
from  the  eyes  of  the  royal  fugitive,  when  eight  of 
their  ships  gave  chase  to  his  little  squadron. 

The  Yorkist  king  was  far  from  relishing  the  ea- 
gerness manifested  by  the  Easterlings  to  make  his 
acquaintance,  and  would,  doubtless,  have  been  de- 
lighted to  get,  by  fair  sailing,  clearly  out  of  their 
way.  This,  however,  appeared  impossible ;  and, 
as  the  danger  became  alarming,  he  commanded  the 
skipper  to  run  ashore  at  all  hazards.  Edward,  al- 
beit exile  and  fugitive,  was  not  the  man  to  be  dis- 
obeyed; and  the  ships  stranded  on  the  coast  of 
Friesland,  near  the  town  of  Alkmaar.  The  East- 
erlings, however,  were  not  thus  to  be  shaken  off. 
Instead  of  giving  up  the  chase,  they  resolved  to 
board  Edward's  vessels  by  the  next  tide,  and,  mean- 
while, followed  as  close  as  the  depth  of  the  water 
would  permit.  The  king's  situation  was  therefore 
the  reverse  of  pleasant.  Indeed,  his  safety  appeared 
to  depend  on  the  chances  of  a  few  hours. 

Among  the  European  magnates  with  whom  Ed- 
ward, in  the  course  of  his  checkered  career,  had 
formed  friendships,  was  a  Burgundian  nobleman, 
Louis  de  Bruges,  Lord  of  Grauthuse.  This  per- 
sonage, at  once  a  soldier,  a  scholar,  and  a  trader, 


261  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

had,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  rendered  accept- 
able service  to  the  White  Rose.  In  other  days,  he 
had  been  sent  by  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  to  cancel 
the  treaty  of  marriage  between  the  son  of  Margaret 
of  Anjou  and  the  daughter  of  Mary  of  Gueldres : 
and  subsequently  to  the  court  of  England,  to  treat 
of  the  match  between  Margaret  Plantagenet  and  the 
Count  of  Charolois.  Being  stadtholder  of  Friesland, 
the  Burgundian  happened  to  be  at  Alkmaar  when 
Edward  was  stranded  on  the  coast,  and  by  chance 
became  acquainted  with  the  startling  fact  that  En- 
gland's king  was  in  the  utmost  danger  of  falling  into 
the  hands  of  privateers  from  the  Hansc  Towns. 

Louis  de  Bruges  could  hardly  have  been  unaware 
that  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  had  no  wish  to  see  Ed- 
ward's face,  or  to  be  inextricably  involved  in  the 
affairs  of  his  unfortunate  kinsman.  The  Lord  of 
Grauthuse,  however,  was  not  the  person  to  leave, 
on  the  coast  of  Frissland,  at  the  mercy  of  pirates,  a 
friend  whom,  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  he  had 
known  as  a  gallant  and  hospitable  monarch ;  at 
whose  board  he  had  feasted  in  the  Great  Hall  of 
Eltham,  at  whose  balls  he  had  danced  in  the  Palaco 
of  Westminster,  and  with  whose  hounds  he  had 
hunted  the  stag  through  the  glades  of  Windsor. 
Perhaps,  indeed,  being  gifted  with  true  nobility  of 
soul,  he  was  all  the  readier  with  his  friendly  offices 
that  Edward  was  a  banished  man.  In  any  case,  he 


LOUIS  DE  BRUGES.  265 

took  immediate  steps  to  relieve  the  royal  exile,  hast- 
ened on  board,  and,  without  reference  to  the  duke's 
political  views,  invited  the  English  king  and  his 
friends  to  land. 

Never  Avas  assistance  more  cheerfully  given,  or 
more  gratefully  received.  The  exiles  breathed  free- 
ly, and  thanked  Heaven  for  aid  so  timely.  But  a 
new  difficulty  at  once  presented  itself.  Edward  was 
so  poor  that  he  could  not  pay  the  master  of  the 
Dutch  vessel,  and  all  his  comrades  were  in  an  equal- 
ly unhappy  plight.  The  king,  however,  soon  got 
over  this  awkward  circumstance.  Taking  off  his 
cloak,  which  was  lined  with  marten,  he  presented  it 
to  the  skipper,  and,  with  that  frank  grace  which  he 
possessed  in  such  rare  perfection,  promised  a  fitting 
reward  when  better  days  should  come. 

At  the  town  of  Alkmaar,  twenty  miles  from 
Amsterdam,  and  celebrated  for  its  rich  pastures,  the 
exiled  king  set  foot  on  Continental  soil.  His  cir- 
cumstances were  most  discouraging.  Even  his  gar- 
ments and  those  of  his  friends  appear  to  have  been 
in  such  a  condition  as  to  excite  surprise.  "  Sure," 
says  Comines,  "  so  poor  a  company  were  never  seen 
before  ;  yet  the  Lord  of  Grauthuse  dealt  very  hon- 
orably by  them,  giving  them  clothes,  and  bearing  all 
their  expenses,  till  they  came  to  the  Hague." 

In  his  adversity,  indeed,  the  conqueror  of  Towton 
could  hardly  have  met  with  a  better  friend  than 


•JOG  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROS  I 

Louis  de  Bruges.  At  the  Hague  the  king  felt  the 
hardness  of  his  lot  alleviated  by  such  attentions  as 
exiles  seldom  experience.  These,  doubtless,  were 
not  without  their  effect.  As  Edward  indulged  in 
the  good  cheer  of  the  city,  and  quaffed  the  good 
wine  of  the  country,  he  would  gradually  take  heart. 
Diverted  from  melancholy  reflections  by  the  wit  of 
Anthony  "Woodville,  and  the  humor  of  William 
Hastings,  and  the  crafty  suggestions  of  the  boy- 
Duke  of  Gloucester,  he  would  find  his  heart  ani- 
mated by  a  hope  unfelt  for  days  ;  and,  under  the 
influence  of  successive  bumpers,  he  would  allude  to 
Warwick's  implacable  resentment,  not  in  accents 
of  despondency,  but  with  his  habitual  oath,  and  his 
customaiy  expression,  "  By  GOD'S  Blessed  Lady,  he 
shall  repent  it  through  every  vein  cf  his  heart." 

But  what  would  Burgundy  say  to  all  this  ?  That 
was  a  question  which  the  Lord  of  Grauthuse  must 
frequently  have  asked  himself,  after  feasting  his 
royal  guest,  and  recalling  to  his  memory  the  scenes 
of  other  days,  and  the  fair  and  the  noble  who  were 
now  suffering  for  his  sake.  The  duke  had  already 
heard  of  Henry's  restoration  in  connection  with  a 
rumor  of  Edward's  death  ;  and,  far  from  manifest- 
ing any  excessive  grief,  he  had  remarked  that  his 
relations  were  with  the  kingdom  of  England,  not 
with  the  king,  and  that  he  cared  not  whether  the 
name  of  Henry  or  that  of  Edward  was  employed  in 


EMBARRASSMENT  OF  BURGUNDY.  i>67 

the  articles  of  treaty.  In  fact,  the  Lancastrian 
prejudices  of  Charles  the  Kash  had  never,  perhaps, 
been  stronger  than  when  the  mighty  arm  of  War- 
wick was  likely  to  smite  the  enemies  of  the  Red 
Rose. 

From  the  Hague  Louis  de  Bruges  intimated  to 
Burgundy  the  arrival  of  King  Edward.  Burgundy 
had  within  the  year  demonstrated  his  respect  for 
the  King  of  England  by  appearing  at  Ghent  with 
the  blue  garter  on  his  leg  and  the  red  cross  on  his 
mantle.  But,  now  that  Edward  was  a  king  with- 
out a  crown,  the  duke's  sentiments  were  quite 
changed,  and  he  was  unwilling,  by  holding  any  in- 
tercourse with  so  hapless  a  being,  to  throw  new  dif- 
ficulties in  the  way  of  those  ambitious  projects  which 
he  hoped  would  convert  his  ducal  coronal  into  a 
regal  and  independent  crown.  On  hearing  the  news 
of  his  brother-in-law  being  alive  and  in  Holland, 
the  duke's  features,  naturally  harsh  and  severe,  as- 
sumed an  expression  of  extreme  surprise.  "  He 
would  have  been  better  pleased,'1  says  Comines,  "  if 
it  had  been  news  of  Edward's  death." 

Burgundy  was  with  some  reason  annoyed  at  Ed- 
ward's  having  paid  so  little  attention  to  his  warn- 
ings ;  and,  moreover,  he  was  vexed  with  himself  for 
having,  out  of  friendship  to  so  imprudent  a  prince, 
exasperated  to  mortal  enmity  so  potent  a  personage 
as  "  The  Stout  Earl."  But  Burgundy  little  knew 


2C3  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

the  ability  and  energy  which,  in  seasons  of  adver- 
sity, the  chief  of  the  Plantagenets  was  capable  of 
displaying.  Edward  already  felt  that  something 
must  be  attempted.  Dullness  he  could  not  bear. 
The  idea  of  passing  his  life  as  a  grumbling  or  plot- 
ting refugee  was  not  to  be  entertained.  Hitherto, 
when  not  engaged  in  making  war  on  men,  he  had 
been  occupied  in  making  love  to  women.  For  lux- 
urious indolence  he  had  always  had  a  failing ;  from 
violent  exertion  he  had  seldom  shrunk  ;  but  excite- 
ment he  had  ever  regarded  as  indispensable.  When 
he  left  his  gay  and  brilliant  court,  it  was  to  charge, 
at  the  head  of  fighting  men,  against  the  foes  of  his 
house  ;  and,  with  all  his  faults,  it  was  admitted  that 
Christendom  could  hardly  boast  of  so  brave  a  sol- 
dier, so  gallant  a  knight,  or  so  skillful  a  general. 
One  man.  indeed,  Edward  kne\v  was  still  deemed 
his  superior ;  and  the  banished  Plantagenet  burned 
for  an  opportunity  to  exercise  his  somewhat  savagi- 
valor  against  the  patriot  earl  who  had  made  and 
unmade  him. 

The  duke  soon  found  that  his  royal  relative  was 
not  likely  to  die  an  exiled  king.  In  fact,  Edward, 
who  lately  had  exhibited  so  much  indolence  and  in- 
difference, was  now  all  enthusiasm  and  eagenu  - 
action.  He  who,  while  in  England,  was  so  lazy  that 
the  most  pressing  exhortations  could  not  rouse  him 
to  obviously  necessary  precautions  in  defense  of  his 


EDWARD  IN   HOLLAND.  269 

crown,  had  now,  when  an  exile  in  Holland,  more 
need  of  a  bridle  than  a  spur. 

The  position  of  Duke  Charles  was  somewhat  del- 
icate. While  aware  that  he  could  not  with  decency 
refuse  aid  to  his  wife's  brother,  he  was  unable  to 
exclude  from  his  mind  great  apprehensions  from 
the  hostility  of  Warwick.  In  this  dilemma,  even 
Europe's  proudest  and  haughtiest  magnate  could 
not  afford  to  be  fastidious  as  to  the  means  of  saving 
himself.  Between  love  of  the  duchess  and  fear  of 
the  carl,  Charles  the  Rash  for  once  found  it  neces- 
sary to  condescend  to  the  process  of  playing  a  double 
game-.  To  ingratiate  himself  with  Warwick  he  re- 
solved to  issue  a  proclamation  •forbidding  any  of  his 
subjects  to  join  Edward's  expedition;  and,  at  the 
same  time,  to  pacify  the  duchess,  he  promised  to 
grant  secretly  to  his  exiled  kinsman  the  means  of 
attempting  to  regain  the  English  crown. 

Preparations  for  Edward's  departure  were  soon 
made.  Twelve  hundred  men  were  got  together, 
part  of  whom  were  English,  armed  with  hand-guns, 
and  part  Flemings.  To  convey  these  to  England, 
ships  were  necessary :  to  pay  them,  money  was  not 
less  essential.  Both  ships  and  money  were  forth- 
coming. 

Burgundy  furnished  the  ships.  The  duke,  how- 
ever, acted  with  a  caution  which  seemed  to  form  no 
part  of  his  character,  and  gave  assistance  in  a  man- 


270  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

ner  so  secret  that  he  trusted  to  avoid  hostilities  with 
the  government  established.  At  Vere,  in  "\Val- 
cheren,  four  vessels  were  fitted  out  for  Edward's  use 
in  the  name  of  private  merchants,  and  fourteen 
others  were  hired  from  the  Easterlings  to  complete 
the  squadron. 

The  house  of  Medici  would  seem  to  have  supplied 
the  money.  At  an  earlier  stage  of  the  great  strug- 
gle that  divided  England,  Cosmo,  the  grandfather 
of  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent,  had  thrown  his  weight 
into  the  Yorkist  scale  by  advancing  money  to  keep 
Edward  on  the  throne;  and  the  banker-princes  of 
Florence  appear  once  more  to  have  influenced  the 
fortunes  of  the  house  of  Plantagenet  by  affording 
pecuniary  aid  to  the  heir  of  York.  One  way  or 
another,  Edward  got  possession  of  fifty  thousand 
florins — no  insignificant  sum,  considering  how  des- 
perate seemed  his  fortunes. 

The  royal  exile  was  now  impatient  to  be  in  En- 
gland, and  there  was  at  least  one  man  who  prayed 
earnestly  for  the  success  of  his  enterprise.  This  was 
Louis  de  Bruges,  who — to  his  credit  be  it  told — had 
throughout  displayed  toward  the  fugitive  monarch, 
in  an  age  of  selfishness  and  servility,  a  generosity 
worthy  of  those  great  days  of  chivalry  which  boast- 
ed of  the  Black  Prince  and  John  de  Valois.  After 
having  given  all  the  aid  he  could  to  Edward  in  re- 
gard to  ships  and  money,  Louis  still  appears  to  have 


HOMEWARD  BOUND  271 

thought  he  had  not  done  enough.  To  complete  his 
courtesy,  therefore,  he  offered  to  accompany  the  ban- 
ished king  to  England,  and  aid  in  overcoming  his 
enemies  in  the  battles  that  were  inevitable.  This 
last  sacrifice  to  friendship  Edward  declined  to  ac- 
cept ;  but  he  was  touched  by  such  a  proof  of  esteem, 
and  pressed  his  host  strongly  to  come  once  more  to 
England,  and  give  him  an  opportunity  of  requiting 
so  much  hospitality.  After  an  affectionate  fare- 
well, the  king  and  the  stadtholder  parted ;  and  Ed- 
ward, having  embarked,  sailed  toward  England,  with 
the  determination  cither  to  reoccupy  a  regal  throne 
or  to  fill  a  warrior's  grave. 

Edward's  fleet  sailed  from  Vere,  in  Walcheren, 
and,  after  a  prosperous  voyage,  approached  Cromer, 
on  the  coast  of  Norfolk.  Hoping  much  from  the 
influence  of  the  Mowbrays,  and  eager  to  set  his  foot 
on  English  soil,  the  king  sent  Sir  Robert  Chamber- 
laine  and  another  knight  ashore  to  ascertain  the 
ideas  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk.  But  little  did  Ed- 
ward know  of  the  position  of  his  friends.  The 
province  was  entirely  under  the  influence  of  Ox- 
ford ;  and  the  Mowbrays,  so  far  from  retaining  any 
power,  appear  to  have  been  glad,  indeed,  of  that 
earl's  protection.  "The  duke  and  duchess,"  says 
John  Paston,  writing  to  his  mother,  "  now  sue  to 
him  as  humbly  as  ever  I  did  to  them,  inasmuch 
that  my  Lord  of  Oxford  shall  have  the  rule  of  them 


272  THE  WARS  OF  THE  HOP  I 

and  theirs,  by  (heir  own  desire  and  great  means." 
The  answer  brought  back  by  Edward's  knights  was 
not,  therefore,  satisfactory.  Indeed,  Oxford  had 
just  been  in  Norfolk,  to  assure  himself  that  no 
precautions  were  omitted ;  and  the  coast  was  so 
vigilantly  guarded  by  his  brother,  George  De  Vere, 
that  an  attempt  to  land  would  have  been  rushing  on 
certain  destruction. 

Disappointed,  but  not  dismayed,  the  king  ordered 
the  mariners  to  steer  northward ;  and  a  violent  storm 
scattered  his  fleet.  Persevering,  however,  with  his 
single  ship,  Edward,  after  having  been  tossed  by 
winds  and  storms  for  forty-eight  hours,  sailed  into 
the  Humber,  and  on  the  14th  of  March,  1471.  ef- 
fected a  landing  at  Ravenspur,  where,  in  other  days, 
Henry  of  Bolingbroke  had  set  foot  Avhen  he  came  to 
deprive  the  second  Richard  of  his  crown  and  his  life. 
Having  passed  the  night  at  the  village  hard  by,  the 
king  was  next  morning  joined  by  his  friends,  who 
had  landed  on  another  part  of  the  coast. 

Edward  now  set  his  face  southward  ;  but  he  soon 
found  that,  on  the  shores  of  England,  he  was  almost 
as  far  from  his  object  as  he  had  been  on  the  coast 
of  Walcheren.  The  people  of  the  north  were  de- 
cidedly hostile ;  and  at  York  he  was  brought  to  a 
stand-still.  It  was  an  age,  however,  when  men 
sported  with  oaths  as  children  do  with  playthings ; 
and  Edward's  conscience  was  by  no  means  more 


EDWARD  CHALLENGES  WARWICK.  273 

tender  than  those  of  his  neighbors.  To  smooth  his 
way,  he  solemnly  swore  only  to  claim  the  dukedom 
of  York,  not  to  make  any  attempt  to  recover  the 
crown ;  and,  moreover,  he  carried  his  dissimulation 
so  far  as  to  proclaim  King  Henry  and  assume  the 
ostrich  feather,  which  was  the  cognizance  of  the 
Lancastrian  Prince  of  Wales. 

After  leaving  York,  however,  a  formidable  ob- 
stacle presented  itself  in  the  shape  of  Pontefract 
Castle,  where  Montagu  lay  with  an  army.  But  the 
marquis,  deceived,  it  Avould  seem,  by  a  letter  from 
the  false  Clarence,  made  no  attempt  to  bar  Edward's 
progress  ;  and,  once  across  the  Trent,  the  king  threw 
off  his  disguise,  and  rallied  the  people  of  the  south 
to  his  standard.  At  Coventry,  into  which  War- 
wick had  retired  to  await  the  arrival  of  Clarence 
with  twelve  thousand  men,  Edward,  hatting  before 
the  walls,  challenged  the  earl  to  decide  their  quar- 
rel by  single  combat.  The  king-maker,  however, 
treated  this  piece  of  knightly  bravado  with  con- 
tempt ;  and  Edward,  having  in  vain  endeavored  to 
bring  his  great  foe  to  battle  by  threatening  the  town 
of  Warwick,  was  fain  to  throw  himself  between  the 
earl  and  the  capital. 

All  this  time  Warwick's  danger  was  much  great- 
er than  he  supposed,  for  the  negotiations  of  the  fe- 
male embassador  sent  to  Angers  were  bearing  fruit ; 
and  Gloucester  had  held  a  secret  conference  with 
S 


^74  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Clarence  in  the  false  duke's  camp.  The  conse- 
quences of  this  interview  soon  appeared.  Clarence, 
reconciled  to  his  brothers,  seized  an  early  oppor- 
tunity of  making  his  soldiers  put  the  White  Roee  on 
their  gorgets  instead  of  the  lied,  and  then,  with 
colors  flying  and  trumpets  sounding,  marched  to 
Edwai-d's  camp. 

The  king,  thus  re-enforced,  pressed  courageously 
toward  London.  Perhaps  he  entertained  little  doubt 
of  a  favorable  reception  ;  for  he  knew  full  well  that 
the  interest  he  had  among  the  city  dames,  and  the 
immense  sums  he  owed  their  husbands — sums  never 
likely  to  pay  unless  in  the  event  of  a  restoration — 
made  London  friendly  to  his  cause ;  and  he  knew, 
moreover,  that  thousands  of  his  partisans  were  in 
the  sanctuaries,  ready  to  come  forth  and  don  the 
White  Rose  whenever  the  banner  of  York  waved  in 
the  spring  breeze  before  the  city  gates. 

It  appears  that  Warwick,  ere  leaving  London, 
had  placed  the  capital  and  the  king  under  the  aus- 
pices of  his  brother,  George  Neville,  Archbishop  of 
York.  On  hearing  of  Edward's  approach,  the  arch- 
bishop made  an  effort  to  discharge  his  duty,  mount- 
ed Henry  of  Wifk}sors«i  hofcfeback,  and  caused  him 
to  ride  from  St.Taul's  to  Walbrook  to  enlist  the 
sympathies  of  the  citizens.  But  during  the  last  six 
months  the  feelings  of  the  populace  had  undergone 
a  considerable  change,  and  the  spectacle  of  the  monk- 


EDWARD  IN  LONDON.  275 

monarch  on  his  palfrey  failed  to  elicit  any  thing  like 
enthusiasm.  Seeing  how  the  political  wind  blew, 
the  ambitious  prelate  resolved  to  abandon  his  broth- 
er's cause,  and  dispatched  a  message  to  Edward  ask- 
ing to  be  received  into  favor. 

The  archbishop  was  assured  of  a  pardon  ;  and  the 
way  having  thus  been  cleared,  the  king,  on  Thurs- 
day, the  llth  of  April,  entered  the  city.  After  rid- 
ing to  St.  Paul's,  he  repaired  to  the  bishop's  palace, 
and  thither,  to  his  presence,  came  the  archbishop, 
leading  Henry  by  the  hand.  Having  taken  posses- 
sion of  his  captive,  Edward  rode  to  Westminster, 
rendered  thanks  to  GOD  in  the  Abbey  for  his  restora- 
tion, conducted  his  wife  and  infant  son  from  the 
sanctuary  to  Baynard's  Castle,  passed  next  day, 
Good  Friday,  in  that  palace  of  Duke  Humphrey, 
and  then  braced  on  his  armor  to  battle  for  his 
crown. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

QUEEN  MARGARET'S  VOYAGE. 

ONE  day  in  the  middle  of  November,  1470,  about 
three  months  after  the  marriage  of  Edward  of  Lan- 
caster and  Anne  Neville,  Margaret  of  Anjou  visited 
Paris,  and  was  received  in  the  capital  of  Louis  the 
Crafty  with  honors  never  before  accorded  but  to 
queens  of  France.  The  daughter  of  King  Rene 
must  in  that  hour  have  formed  high  notions  of  the 
advantage  of  Warwick's  friendship,  for  it  was  en- 
tirely owing  to  the  king-maker's  triumph  that  King 
Henry's  wife  was  treated  with  so  much  distinction. 

The  news  of  Warwick's  success  and  of  Edward's 
discomfiture,  which  had  caused  so  much,  excitement 
in  Calais,  the  Continental  strong-hold  of  the  En- 
glish, traveled  rapidly  to  the  French  territories,  and 
reached  the  king,  who,  at  Amboise,  was  anxiously 
awaiting  the  result  of  Warwick's  expedition.  Louis 
was  overjoyed  at  the  success  of  his  scheme?,  and 
demonstrated  his  confidence  in  the  genius  of  the 
earl  by  setting  the  treaty  of  Peronne  at  defiance, 
and  breaking  all  terms  of  amity  with  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy.  In  his  enthusiasm  he  could  not  even 
recognize  the  possibility  of  a  change  of  fortune. 


MARGARET  IN  PARIS.  •>" 

For  once  this  apostle  of  deceit  was  deceived  by  him- 
self. 

While  rejoicing  in  the  results  produced  by  his 
political  craft,  Louis  was  seized  with  a  fit  of  devo- 
tion. To  indulge  his  superstitious  emotions,  the 
king  went  on  a  pilgrimage  to  the  Church  of  St. 
Mary  at  Celles,  in  Poitou ;  and,  having  there  ex- 
pressed his  own  gratitude  to  Heaven,  he  issued  or- 
ders  that  the  clergy,  nobles,  and  inhabitants  of  Paris 
and  other  towns  throughout  France  should  make 
solemn  procession  in  honor  of  GOD  and  the  Virgin, 
and  give  thanks  at  once  for  the  victory  obtained  by 
Henry  of  Windsor  over  the  Earl  of  March,  who  had 
long  usurped  his  throne,  and  for  the  peace  now  hap- 
pily established  between  England  and  France. 

The  visit  of  Margaret  of  Anjou  to  Paris  was  then 
projected  ;  and,  when  the  religious  festival,  which 
lasted  for  three  days,  was  over,  preparations  were 
made  for  her  reception.  At  the  appointed  time, 
Margaret  proceeded  on  the  journey,  accompanied  by 
the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wale?,  the  Countess  of 
Warwick,  the  Countess  of  Wiltshire,  a  daughter  of 
the  house  of  Beaufort,  and  other  ladies  and  damsels 
who  had  formed  the  court  at  Verdun,  and  attended 
by  an  escort  of  French  noblemen,  among  whom  the 
Counts  D'Eu,  Dunois,  and  Vendome  were  prominent 
figures. 

On  reaching  the  French  capital,  Margaret  was 


•J78  THE  WARS  OF  THE   HOSES. 

received  with  the  highest  honors.  "  When  she  ap- 
proached Paris,"  says  Monstrelet,  "the  bishop,  the 
court  of  Parliament,  the  University,  the  provosts  of 
Paris,  and  the  court  of  Chatelet,  by  express  orders 
from  the  king,  together  with  the  principal  inhabit- 
ants, came  out  to  meet  her,  handsomely  dressed,  and 
in  very  numerous  bodies.  She  made  her  entry  at 
the  gate  of  St.  James ;  and  all  the  streets  through 
which  she  passed,  from  that  gate  to  the  palace, 
where  apartments  had  been  handsomely  prepared 
for  her,  were  adorned  with  hangings  of  tapestry, 
and  had  tents  pitched  in  all  the  squares."  At  such 
a  time  Margaret  could  hardly  have  helped  recalling 
to  memory,  perhaps  not  without  feelings  of  bitter- 
ness, how  different  had  been  her  reception  when, 
eight  years  earlier,  she,  poor  indeed  and  desolate. 
but  then  as  much  as  now  Queen  of  the  Lancas- 
trians, came  with  her  son  in  her  hand  to  implore 
her  kinsman's  aid  to  recover  her  husband's  crown. 

Enthusiastic  as  was  the  welcome  of  the  Lancas- 
trians to  Paris,  they  had  no  motive  to  prolong  their 
stay  on  the  banks  of  the  Seine.  Indeed,  as  it  was 
believed  that  nothing  but  the  presence  of  the  queen 
and  Prince  of  Wales  was  wanting  to  secure  War- 
wick triumph,  they  were  all  anxiety  to  set  sail. 
In  November  they  journeyed  to  the  coast,  but  the 
winter  was  so  cold  and  the  weather  so  stormy  that 
they  were  fain  to  postpone  their  voyage. 


ADVERSE  WINDS.  279 

About  the  opening  of  the  year  1471,  the  Prior 
of  St.  John,  dispatched  by  Warwick,  came  to  urge 
the  necessity  of  Margaret's  presence,  and  that  of  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  in  England.  The  queen  again 
embarked,  and  the  earl  gladly  prepared  to  welcome 
the  mother  and  the  son  to  those  shores«from  which 
he  had,  seven  years  before,  driven  them  poor  and 
destitute ;  but  still  the  winds  were  adverse  and  the 
weather  stormy,  and  the  ships  only  left  Harfleur  to 
be  driven  back  damaged.* 

The  elements  had  often  proved  unfavorable  to 
Margaret  of  Anjou,  but  never  under  circumstances 
so  unfortunate  as  on  this  occasion.  Thrice  did  she 
put  to  sea,  and  as  often  was  she  dashed  back  by 
contrary  winds.  The  partisans  of  each  of  the  Roses 
in  England  put  their  own  interpretation  on  these 
unpropitious  gales.  "It  is  GOD'S  just  provision," 
said  the  Yorkists,  "  that  the  foreign  woman,  who 
has  been  the  cause  of  so  many  battles  and  so  much 
slaughter,  should  never  return  to  England  to  do 

*  "  On  the  1-ith  of  February,"  says  Fabyan,  "  the  Duke 
of  Exster  came  to  London,  and  on  the  27th  rode  the  Earl 
of  Warwick  through  the  city  toward  Dover  for  to  have  re- 
ceived Queen  Margaret.  But  he  was  disappointed,  for  the 
wind  was  to  her  so  contrary  that  she  lay  at  the  sea-side, 
tarrying  for  a  convenient  wind,  from  November  till  April. 
And  so  the  said  earl,  when  he  had  long  tarried  for  her  at 
the  sea-side,  was  fain  to  return  without  speed  of  his  pur- 
pose." 


•280  THK   WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

more  mischief."  "The  queen,"  said  the  Lancas- 
trians, "  is  kept  away,  and  her  journey  prevented, 
by  Friar  Bungey,  the  Duchess  of  Bedford,  and  other 
sorcerers  and  necromancers." 

All  winter  the  queen  and  prince  were  compelled 
to  wait  patiently  for  fair  winds  to  waft  them  to  the 
shores  of  England;  and  while  in  this  position  they 
learned,  with  some  degree  of  alarm,  that  Edward  of 
York  had  landed  at  Ravenspur,  and  that  Clarence, 
breaking  faith  with  Warwick,  had  been  reconciled 
to  his  brother.  But,  however  anxious  at  this  in- 
telligence, they  were  not  seriously  apprehensive  of 
the  consequences.  Margaret  knew,  to  her  cost,  the 
influence  which  Warwick  exercised  in  England,  and, 
sanguine  by  nature,  she  could  hardly  doubt  that  he 
would  prove  victorious  in  the  event  of  a  struggle. 
The  prince,  though  intelligent  and  accomplished, 
was  young  and  inexperienced  ;  and  he  had  been 
taught  by  Louis  to  believe  that  the  alliance  of  War- 
wick and  Margaret  would  conquer  all  obstacles. 

At  length,  when  the  winter  passed  and  the  spring 
came,  when  the  winds  were  still  and  the  sea  calm, 
the  queen  and  the  Prince  of  Wales  embarked  once 
more,  and  left  the  French  coast  behind.  Landing 
at  Weymouth  on  the  14th  of  April,  they  went  to 
the  Abbey  of  Cearne  to  repose  from  the  fatigues  of 
their  voyage  before  taking  their  way  to  the  capital, 
where  they  anticipated  a  joyous  welcome.  But  a 


MARGARET'S   DISAPPOINTMENT.  281 

bitter  disappointment  was  reserved  for  the  royal 
wanderers.  The  prince,  instead  of  finding  a  throne 
at  Westminster,  was  doomed  to  fill  a  bloody  grave 
at  Tewkesbury.  Margaret,  instead  of  entering  Lon- 
don in  triumph,  was  led  thither  a  captive,  when  a 
terrible  defeat  had  destroyed  hope,  and  a  tragic  ca- 
tastrophe had  dissipated  ambition. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE    BATTLE    OF    BARNET. 

MEMORABLE  was  the  spring  of  1471  destined  to 
be  in  the  history  of  England's  baronage,  and  in  the 
annals  of  the  Wars  of  "  the  pale  and  the  purple 
rose." 

From  the  day  that  the  warriors  of  the  White 
Rose — thanks  to  Montagu's  supineness  in  the  cause 
of  the  Red — were  allowed  to  pass  the  Trent  on  their 
progress  southward,  a  great  battle  between  Edward 
and  Warwick  became  inevitable ;  and  as  the  king, 
without  any  desire  to  avoid  a  collision  with  the  earl, 
led  a  Yorkist  army  toward  London,  the  earl,  with 
every  determination  to  insist  on  a  conflict  with  the 
king,  mustered  a  Lancastrian  army  at  Coventry. 

England,  it  was  plain,  could  not,  for  many  days 
longer,  hold  both  Edward  and  Warwick.  Each 
was  animated  by  an  intense  antipathy  to  the  other, 
and  both  panted  for  the  hour  that  was  to  bring  their 
mortal  feud  to  the  arbitrament  of  the  sword.  The 
circumstances  were  altogether  unfavorable  to  com- 
promise or  delay ;  and  events  hurried  on  with  a  ra- 
pidity corresponding  to  the  characters  of  the  rival 
chiefs.  While  Edward  Plantagenet  was  taking  pos- 


THE  EVE  OF  CONFLICT.  283 

session  of  London,  Richard  Neville  was  advancing, 
by  the  high  northern  road,  toward  the  capital ;  and, 
almost  ere  the  king  had  time  to  do  more  than  re- 
move his  spouse  from' the  sanctuary  of  Westminster 
to  Baynard's  Castle,  the  trumpet  of  war  summoned 
him  to  an  encounter  with  the  king-maker. 

Warwick's  rendezvous  was  Coventry  ;  and  to  that 
city,  at  the  earl's  call,  hastened  thousands  of  men,  to 
repair  the  loss  which  he  had  sustained  by  the  defec- 
tion of  Clarence.  Thither  came  Henry  of  Exeter 
and  Edmund  Somerset ;  and  John  De  Vere,  Earl 
of  Oxford,  with  a  host  of  warriors  devoted  to  the 
house  of  Lancaster ;  and  John  Neville,  Marquis  of 
Montagu,  who,  although  not  supposed  to  relish  the 
company  of  Lancastrians,  appeared  eager  in  his 
brother's  quarrel  to  sacrifice  the  prejudices  of  his 
life  and  redeem  the  fatal  error  he  had  committed  at 
Pontefract. 

At  this  stage  of  affairs,  the  Duke  of  Clarence  en- 
deavored to  open  a  door  for  the  earl's  reconciliation 
to  the  king.  Such  an  attempt  was  indeed  hopeless ; 
but  the  duke,  perhaps  suffering  some  twinges  of 
conscience  on  account  of  his  treachery,  sent  to  ex- 
cuse himself  for  changing  sides,  and  to  entreat  War- 
wick to  make  peace  with  Edward.  His  message 
was  treated  with  lofty  scorn.  "  I  would  rather," 
said  the  earl,  "die  true  to  myself,  than  live  like 
that  false  and  perjured  duke ;  and  I  vow  not,  until 


284        THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

I  have  either  lost  my  life  or  subdued  mine  enemies, 
to  lay  down  the  sword  to  which  I  have  appealed." 

With  a  resolution  not  to  be  broken,  Warwick, 
with  Oxford  leading  his  van,  marched  from  Coven- 
try ;  and,  hoping  to  arrest  the  Yorkist  army  ere  the 
king  was  admitted  into  London,  he  advanced  south- 
ward with  all  speed,  Learning,  however,  that  the 
archbishop  had  proved  false,  and  that  the  citizens 
had  proved  obsequious,  the  earl,  on  reaching  St.  Al- 
bans,  halted  to  allow  his  men  to  repose  from  their 
fatigues,  and  on  Saturday  moved  forward  to  Barnet, 
standing  on  a  hill  midway  between  St.  Albans  and 
London.  Here  the  earl,  resolving  to  await  the  ap- 
proach of  his  royal  foe,  called  a  halt ;  and,  having 
ordered  his  vanguard  to  take  possession  of  the  little 
town,  he  encamped  on  a  heath  known  as  Glads- 
muir,  and  forming  part  of  an  extensive  chase,  stock- 
ed with  beasts  of  game. 

The  king  did  not  long  keep  the  earl  waiting.  No 
sooner  did  the  martial  monarch  hear  that  his  great 
foe  had  left  Coventry  and  was  approaching  the  me- 
tropolis, than  he  girded  on  his  armor,  with  a  heart 
as  fearless  of  the  issue  as  had  animated  the  mighti- 
est of  his  ancestors  when,  on  a  summer  morning,  he 
marched  to  Evesham  to  strike  down  the  puissance 
of  Simon  de  Montfort.  It  was  with  no  faint  hopes 
of  success,  indeed,  that,  at  the  head  of  an  army  de- 
voted to  his  cause,  Edward,  clad  in  magnificent  ar- 


A  NOCTURNAL  CANNONADE.       285 

mor,  and  mounted  on  a  white  steed,  with  crimson 
capari.-ons,  lined  with  blue  and  embroidered  with 
flowers  of  gold,  rode  out  of  London,  cheered  by  the 
good  wishes  of  the  citizens,  surrounded  by  the  com- 
panions of  his  exile,  and  attended  by  George  of 
Clarence,  whom  he  could  not  prudently  trust  else- 
where, and  by  Henry  of  Windsor,  whom  he  could 
not  safely  leave  behind. 

On  the  afternoon  of  Saturday  Edward  left  Lon- 
don, and  late  in  the  evening  of  that  day  he  reached 
Barnet.  As  the  Yorkist  army  approached  the  town, 
the  king's  outriders,  meeting  those  of  the  earl,  chased 
them  past  the  embattled  tower  of  the  church  dedi- 
cated to  St.  John,  and  advanced  till,  through  the 
darkness,  they  perceived  the  army  of  Warwick.  On 
being  informed  that  the  earl  was  so  near,  the  king 
ordered  his  army  to  move  through  Barnet,  and  en- 
camped in  the  darkness,  close  to  the  foe,  on  Glads- 
muir  Heath.  The  king  took  up  his  quarters  for  the 
night  in  the  town,  and  his  soldiers  lay  on  the  heath. 
They  had  no  sleep,  however,  for  so  near  was  the 
Lancastrian  camp  that  the  voices  of  men  and  the 
neighing  of  horses  were  distinctly  heard. 

Both  armies  had  artillery;  and  Warwick's  guns 
were,  during  the  night,  fired  perseveringly  at  the 
foe.  The  king,  it  appears,  did  not  reply  to  this 
salutation.  Indeed,  Edward  early  discovered  that 
the  Lancastrians  were  unaware  of  the  exact  position 


280  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

of  the  Yorkist  army,  and  thanked  his  stars  that  such 
was  the  case  ;  for,  though  Edward's  intention  had 
been  to  place  his  men  immediately  in  front  of  their 
foes,  the  darkness  had  prevented  him  from  perceiv- 
ing the  extent  of  Warwick's  lines,  and  thus  it  hap- 
pened that,  while  ranging  his  forces  so  as  far  to  out- 
stride  the  earl's  left  wing,  he  had  failed  to  place  them 
over  against  the  right.  Seldom  has  an  error  in  war 
proved  so  fortunate  for  a  general.  The  earl  hap- 
pened to  have  all  his  artillery  posted  in  the  right 
division  of  his  army,  and  concluded  that  the  York- 
ists were  within  reach.  Edward,  as  the  fire  from 
Warwick's  guns  flashed  red  through  the  darkness, 
saw  the  advantage  he  had  unintentionally  gained, 
and  issued  strict  orders  that  none  of  his  guns  should 
be  fired,  lest  the  enemy  "  should  have  guessed  the 
ground,  and  so  leveled  their  artillery  to  his  annoy- 
ance." This  precaution  was  successful,  and  the 
earl's  gunners  thundered  till  daybreak  without  pro- 
ducing any  effect. 

Ere  the  first  streak  of  day  glimmered  in  the  sky, 
the  armies  were  in  motion ;  and  when  the  morning 
of  Easter  Sunday  dawned,  a  flourish  of  trumpets 
and  a  solemn  tolling  from  the  bell  of  the  Church  of 
St.  John  aroused  the  inhabitants  of  Barnet,  and  an- 
nounced that  the  game  of  carnage  was  about  to  be- 
gin. The  weather  was  by  no  means  favorable  for 
that  display  of  martial  chivalry  which,  in  sunshine, 


MORNING  OF  EASTER  SUNDAY.  287 

the  field  would  have  presented  to  the  eyes  of  spec- 
tators. The  morning  was  damp  and  dismal.  A 
thick  fog  overshadowed  the  heath ;  and  the  mist 
hung  so  closely  over  both  armies  that  neither  York- 
ists nor  Lancastrians  could  see  their  foes,  save  at 
intervals.  The  fighting  men  of  that  age  were  as 
superstitious  as  their  neighbors ;  and  the  soldiers  on 
both  sides  concluded  that  the  mists  had  been  raised 
to  favor  the  king  by  Friar  Bungey,  the  potent  ma- 
gician whose  spells  were  supposed  to  have  raised  the 
wind  that  kept  Margaret  of  Anjou  from  the  shores 
of  England. 

Nevertheless,  at  break  of  day  the  earl  ordered  his 
trumpets  to  sound,  and  proceeded  to  set  his  men  in 
battle  order.  The  task  was  one  of  no  small  delica- 
cy ;  but  it  seems  to  have  been  performed  with  great 
judgment.  Though  Warwick  was  the  soul  and 
right  arm  of  the  Lancastrian  army,  the  battle  was 
so  arranged  as  to  give  no  umbrage  to  the  time-tried 
champions  of  the  Ked  Rose.  The  centre  host,  con- 
sisting chiefly  of  ai'chei's  and  bill-men,  was  com- 
manded by  Somerset ;  Oxford,  Avho  appears  to  have 
been  trusted  by  the  Lancastrians,  shared  the  com- 
mand of  the  right  wing  with  the  conqueror  of  Hex- 
ham  ;  and,  in  command  of  the  left,  Exeter,  who  had 
helped  to  lose  battle  after  battle,  had  the  distinction 
of  participating  with  "  the  setter-up  and  plucker- 
down  of  kings." 


288  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Meanwhile,  Edward  had  roused  himself  from  his 
repose,  arrayed  himself  royally  for  the  battle,  placed 
on  his  head  a  basnet  surrounded  with  a  crown  of 
ornament,  mounted  his  white  charger — in  that  age 
regarded  as  the  symbol  of  sovereignty — and  taken 
the  field  to  vindicate  his  right  to  the  throne  of  his 
two  great  namesakes  who  reposed  at  Westminster 
in  the  Confessor's  Chapel. 

Edward,  in  marshaling  his  army,  had  to  contend 
with  none  of  the  difficulties  that  beset  Warwick. 
The  Yorkist  army  was  devoted  to  his  cause,  as  the 
chief  of  the  White  Rose ;  and  the  captains  shared 
each  other's  political  sympathies  and  antipathies. 
Moreover,  they  were  the  king's  own  kinsmen  and 
friends — kinsmen  who  had  partaken  of  his  prosper- 
ity, and  were  eager  to  contribute  to  his  triumph — 
friends  who  had  accompanied  him  into  exile,  and 
were  ready  to  die  in  his  defense.  Under  such  cir- 
cumstances, the  disposition  of  the  Yorkist  army  was 
easily  made.  Edward,  keeping  the  fickle  Clarence 
and  the  feeble  Henry  in  close  attendance,  took  the 
command  of  the  centre,  and  was  opposed  to  that 
part  of  the  Lancastrian  forces  commanded  by  Som- 
erset. At  the  head  of  the  right  wing  was  placed 
Gloucester,  though  still  in  his  teens,  to  cope  with 
Exeter,  the  husband  of  his  sister,  and  AVnruii-k,  the 
sworn  friend  of  his  sire.  At  the  head  of  the  left 
was  posted  Hastings,  to  face  his  brothers-in-law, 


A  FIGHT  IN  A  FOG.  289 

Oxford  and  Montagu.  Besides  these  divisions,  the 
king  kept  a  body  of  choice  troops  in  reserve  to  ren- 
der aid,  as  the  day  sped  on,  where  aid  should  be 
most  required. 

Agreeably  to  the  custom  of  the  period,  the  king 
and  the  earl  addressed  their  adherents,  each  assert- 
ing the  justice  of  liis  cause — Edward  denouncing 
the  patrician  hero  as  rebel  and  traitor ;  while  War- 
wick branded  his  royal  adversary  as  usurper  and 
tyrant.  This  ceremony  over,  the  hostile  armies 
joined  battle.  At  first  fortune  with  fickle  smile 
favored  the  Lancastrians.  The  error  made  by  the 
Yorkists  in  taking  up  their  position  on  the  previous 
evening  now  caused  them  serious  inconvenience. 
In  fact,  the  Lancastrian  right  wing,  composed  of 
horsemen,  so  overlapped  the  king's  troops  opposed 
to  them  that  Oxford  and  Montagu  were  enabled  to 
crush  Hastings  as  in  a  serpent's  fold.  The  Yorkist 
left  wing  was  completely  discomfited  ;  and  many  of 
the  men  spurred  out  of  the  fog,  escaped  from  the 
field,  dashed  through  Barnet,  galloped  along  the 
high  north  road  to  London,  and  excused  their  flight 
by  reporting  that  the  earl  had  won  the  day. 

The  conclusion  at  which  the  fugitives  had  arrived 
was  quite  premature.  Indeed,  could  these  doughty 
champions  of  the  White  liose  have  seen  what  was 
passing  in  other  parts  of  the  field,  they  would  prob- 
ably have  postponed  their  ride  to  the  capital.  Fear- 
T 


290  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

ful  difficulties  encompassed  the  right  wing  of  the 
Lancastrian  army.  Gloucester  was  proving  how- 
formidable  a  war-chief  a  Plantagenet  could  be  even 
in  his  teens,  and  enacting  his  part  with  such  skill 
and  courage  as  would  have  done  credit  to  warriors 
who  had  led  the  Yorkists  to  victory  at  Towton  and 
Northampton.  With  an  eye  that  few  things  es- 
caped, the  boy-duke  availed  himself  of  the  advan- 
tage which  Montagu  and  Oxford  had  turned  to  such 
account  in  their  struggle  with  Hastings ;  and,  urg- 
ing on  the  assault  with  characteristic  ferocity,  he 
succeeded  in  placing  his  adversaries  in  the  unfortu- 
nate predicament  to  which  the  left  wing  of  the 
Yorkists  had  already  been  reduced.  At  the  same 
time,  the  Lancastrians  opposed  to  Gloucester  were 
dispirited  by  the  fall  of  Exeter,  who  sunk  to  the 
ground  wounded  with  an  arrow ;  and  so  dense  con- 
tinued the  fog  over  Gladsmuir  Heath  that  they  were 
not  even  consoled  with  the  knowledge  of  Oxford's 
signal  success.  Edward,  however,  early  became 
aware  that  his  left  wing  had  been  destroyed,  and 
charged  the  Lancastrian  centre  with  such  vigor  as 
threw  Somerset's  ranks  into  confusion. 

The  ignorance  of  the  Lancastrians  as  to  the  suc- 
cess of  their  right  wing,  was  not  the  only  disadvan- 
tage they  suffered  from  the  fog.  The  soldiers  con- 
sidered the  dense  watery  vapors  not  as  ordinary  ex- 
halations, but  as  supernatural  means  used  by  Friar 


OXFORD  AND  HIS  CAVALRY.  291 

Bungey  to  aid  the  Yorkist  cause ;  and,  from  the 
beginning,  the  gloom  had  been  decidedly  favorable 
to  Edward's  operations.  Ere  the  battle  long  con- 
tinued, the  fog  did  better  service  to  the  king  than 
could  have  been  rendered  to  him  by  hundreds  of 
knights. 

Among  the  retainers  of  feudal  magnates  of  that 
age  it  was  the  fashion  to  wear  a  badge  to  indicate 
the  personage  whose  banner  they  followed.  From 
the  time  of  the  Crusades  the  badge  of  the  house  of 
De  Vere  had  been  a  star  with  streams ;  and  from 
the  morning  of  Mortimer's  Cross,  the  cognizance  of 
the  house  of  York  had  a  sun  in  splendor.  At  Bar- 
net,  Oxford's  men  had  the  star  embroidered  on  their 
coats  ;  Edward's  men  the  sun  on  their  coats.  The 
devices  bore  such  a  resemblance  that,  seen  through  a 
fog,  one  might  easily  be  mistaken  for  the  other ;  and 
it  happened  that  on  Gladsmuir  Heath  there  was  such 
a  mistake. 

When  Oxford  had  pursued  the  Yorkists  under 
Hastings  to  the  verge  of  the  Heath,  it  occurred  to 
him  that  he  might  render  a  signal  service  to  his 
party  by  wheeling  round  and  smiting  Edward's  cen- 
tre in  the  flank.  Unfortunately  some  Lancastrian 
archers,  who  perceived  without  comprehending  this 
movement,  mistook  De  Vere's  star,  in  the  mist,  for 
Edward's  sun,  drew  their  bows  to  the  head,  and 
sent  a  flight  of  shafts  rattling  against  the  mail  of  the 


292  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

approaching  cavalry.  Oxford's  horsemen  instantly 
shouted  ';  Treason  !  treason  !  we  are  all  betrayed  !" 
and  Oxford,  amazed  at  such  treatment  from  his  own 
party,  and  bewildered  by  the  cry  of  "Treason!" 
that  now  came  from  all  directions,  concluded  that 
there  was  foul  play,  and  rode  off  the  field  at  the 
head  of  eight  hundred  men. 

The  plight  of  the  Lancastrians  was  now  rapidly 
becoming  desperate ;  and  Edward  hastened  their 
ruin  by  urging  fresh  troops  upon  their  disordered 
ranks.  Warwick,  however,  showed  no  inclination 
to  yield.  "  The  Stout  Earl"  in  fact  had  been  little 
accustomed  to  defeat ;  and  such  was  the  terror  of 
his  name  that,  on  former  occasions,  the  cry  of  "A 
Warwick  !  A  Warwick  !"  had  been  sufficient  to 
decide  the  fate  of  a  field.  But  at  St.  Albans,  at 
Northampton,  and  at  Towton  Field,  the  earl's  tri- 
umphs had  been  achieved  over  Beauforts,  Hollands, 
and  Tudors,  men  of  ordinary  courage  and  average 
intellect.  At  Barnet  he  was  in  the  presence  of  a 
warrior  of  prowess  and  a  war-chief  of  pride,  whose 
heart  was  not  less  bold,  and  whose  eye  was  still 
more  skillful  than  his  own. 

Edward,  in  fact,  could  not  help  perceiving  that 
nothing  but  a  violent  effort  was  now  required  to 
complete  his  victory.  Up  to  this  stage  he  appears 
to  have  issued  commands  to  his  friends  with  the 
skill  of  a  Plantagenet :  he  now  executed  vengeance 


EDWARD'S  CHARGE.  293 

on  his  foes  with  the  cruelty  of  a  Mortimer.  Mount- 
ed on  his  white  steed,  with  his  teeth  firmly  set,  the 
spur  pressing  his  horse's  side,  and  his  right  hand 
lifted  up  to  slay,  he  charged  the  disheartened  Lan- 
castrians, bearing  down  all  opposition  ;  and,  instead 
of  crying,  as  on  former  occasions,  "  Smite  the  cap- 
tains, but  spare  the  commons  !"  he  said,  "  Spare 
none  who  favor  the  rebel  earl !" 

While  the  king's  steed  was  bearing  him  over  the 
field,  and  his  arm  was  doing  fearful  execution  on  the 
foe,  the  king-maker's  operations  were,  unfortunately 
for  the  Lancastrian  cause,  limited  to  a  single  spot. 
In  former  battles,  with  a  memorable  exception, 
Warwick  had  fought  on  horseback.  When  mount- 
ed, the  earl  had  been  in  the  habit  of  riding  from 
rank  to  rank  to  give  orders,  of  breaking,  with  his 
sword  or  his  battle-axe  in  hand,  into  the  enemy's 
lines,  with  the  cry  of  "  A  Warwick  !  A  Warwick  !" 
and  encouraging  his  army  by  deeds  of  prowess, 
wherever  the  presence  of  a  daring  leader  was  most 
necessary.  At  Barnet,  however,  he  had  been  pre- 
vailed on  to  dismount,  and  send  his  steed  away,  that 
he  might  thus,  as  when  he  killed  his  horse  at  Tow- 
ton,  prove  to  his  adherents  that  he  was  determined 
never  to  leave  the  field  till  he  was  either  a  conqueror 
or  a  corpse.  Most  unfortunate  for  the  earl  proved 
this  deviation  from  his  ordinary  custom,  when  the 
day  wore  on  and  the  men  grew  weary,  and  looked 


291  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

in  vain  for  the  presence  of  their  chief  to  cheer  their 
spirits  and  sustain  their  courage. 

It  was  seven  o'clock  when  the  fight  began.  Long 
ere  noon  both  wings  of  the  Lancastrian  army  had 
vanished,  and  the  chiefs  of  the  Red  Rose  had  disap- 
peared from  the  field.  Oxford  had  fled  to  avoid 
being  betrayed.  Somerset  had  fled  to  escape  death. 
Exeter,  abandoned  by  his  attendants,  lay  on  the  cold 
heath  of  Gladsmuir  among  the  dead  and  dying. 
But  Warwick  was  resolved  that  the  battle  should 
only  terminate  with  his  life  ;  and,  at  the  head  of  the 
remaining  division,  opposed  to  the  Yorkists  whom 
Edward  commanded  in  person,  the  earl  posted  him- 
self for  a  final  effort  to  avert  his  doom.  Montagu, 
it  would  appear,  was  by  his  brother's  side. 

More  furiously  than  ever  now  raged  the  battle ; 
and  far  fiercer  than  hitherto  was  the  struggle  that 
took  place.  Opposed  more  directly  to  each  other 
than  they  had  previously  been,  the  king  and  the 
earl  exerted  their  prowess  to  the  utmost — one  ani- 
mated by  hope,  the  other  urged  by  despair.  The 
example  of  such  leaders  was  not,  of  course,  lost ;  and 
men  of  all  ranks  in  the  two  armies  strained  every 
nerve,  and  struggled  hand  to  hand  with  their  ad- 
versaries. 

'  •  Groom  fought  like  noble,  squire  like  knight, 

As  fearlessly  and  well." 
On  both  sides  the  slaughter  had  been  considera- 


WARWICK'S  LAST  STRUGGLE.  205 

ble.  On  Edward's  side  Lord  Say  and  Sir  John 
Lisle,  Lord  Cromwell  and  Sir  Humphrey  Bourchier, 
with  about  fifteen  hundred  soldiers,  bit  the  dust. 
On  Warwick's  side  twenty-three  knights,  among 
whom  was  Sir  William  Tyrrel,  and  three  thousand 
fighting  men  fell  to  rise  no  more.  At  length,  after 
a  bloody  and  obstinate  contest  had  been  maintained, 
Edward  saw  that  the  time  had  arrived  to  strike  a 
sure  and  shattering  blow.  There  still  remained  a 
body  of  Yorkists  who  had  been  kept  in  reserve  for 
any  emergency.  The  king  ordered  up  these  fresh 
troops,  and  led  them  to  the  assault.  Warwick  front- 
ed this  new  peril  with  haughty  disdain ;  and,  in  ac- 
cents of  encouragement,  appealed  to  his  remaining 
adherents  to  persevere.  "  This,"  said  he,  "  is  their 
last  resource.  If  we  withstand  this  one  charge  the 
field  will  yet  be  ours."  But  the  earl's  men,  jaded 
and  fatigued,  could  not  encounter  such  fearful  odds 
with  success ;  and  Warwick  had  the  mortification 
of  finding  that  his  call  was  no  longer  answered  by 
his  friends,  and  that  his  battle-cry  no  longer  sounded 
terrible  to  his  foes. 

Warwick  could  not  now  have  entertained  any  de- 
lusions as  to  the  issue  of  the  conflict.  He  was  con- 
quered, and  he  must  have  felt  such  to  be  the  case. 
The  disaster  was  irremediable,  and  left  him  no  hope. 
The  descendant  of  Cospatrick  did  not  stoop  to  ask 
for  mercy,  as  Simon  de  Montfort  had  done  under 


29G  THE  \VARs>  OF  THE  ROSES. 

somewhat  similar  circumstances,  only  to  be  told 
there  was  none  for  such  a  traitor ;  nor  did  he,  by  a 
craven  flight,  tarnish  the  splendid  fume  which  he  had 
won  on  many  :i  sti'icken  field.  Life,  in  fact,  could 
not  any  longer  have  charms  for  him  ;  and,  ceasing  to 
hope  for  victory,  he  did  not  feel  any  wish  lo  .survive 
defeat.  A  glorious  death  only  awaited  the  king- 
maker— such  a  death  as  history  should  record  in 
words  of  admiration  and-  poets  celebrate  in  strains 
of  praise. 

Under  such  circumstances,  the  great  earl  ventured 
desperately  into  the  thickest  of  the  conflict ;  and, 
sword  in  hand,  threw  himself  valiantly  among  count- 
less enemies.  Death,  which  he  appeared  to  seek, 
did  not  shun  him ;  and  he  faced  the  king  of  terrors 
with  an  aspect  as  fearless  as  he  had  ever  presented 
to  Henry  or  to  Edward.  The  king-maker  died  as 
he  had  lived.  In  the  melancholy  hour  which  closed 
his  career — betrayed  by  the  wily  archbishop ;  de- 
serted by  the  perjured  Clarence;  abandoned  on  the 
field  by  his  new  allies  ;  and  conquered  by  the  man 
whom  he  had  set  on  a  throne— even  in  that  hour, 
the  bitterest  perhaps  of  his  life,  Warwick  was  War- 
wick still ;  and  Montagu,  perhaps  caring  little  to 
survive  the  patriot  earl,  rushed  in  to  his  rescue,  and 
fell  by  his  side. 

Naturally  enough,  the  Yorkists  breathed  more 
freely  after  Warwick's  fall ;  and,  with  some  reason, 


THE  TOMB  OF  WARWICK.  297 

they  believed  that  the  last  hopes  of  Lancaster  had 
been  trodden  out  on  the  field  of  Barnet.  Edward, 
as  he  rode  from  the  scene  of  caraage  toward  Lon- 
don, imagined  his  throne  absolutely  secure  ;  and,  not 
dreaming  that  ere  a  few  days  he  would  have  to  gird 
on  his  armor  for  a  struggle  hardly  less  severe  than 
that  out  of  which  he  had  come  a  conqueror,  the  king 
made  a  triumphal  entry  into  the  capital,  repaired  to 
St.  Paul's,  presented  his  standard  as  an  offering,  and 
returned  thanks  to  GOD  for  giving  him  such  a  vic- 
tory over  his  enemies. 

The  bodies  of  Warwick  and  Montagu  were  placed 
in  one  coffin,  conveyed  to  London,  and  exposed  for 
three  days  at  St.  Paul's,  that  all  who  desired  might 
assure  themselves  that  the  great  earl  and  his  brother 
no  longer  lived.  Even  Warwick's  death  did  not  ap- 
pease Edward's  hatred ;  and  he  would  have  cared 
little  to  refuse  interment  befitting  the  earl's  rank 
to  the  corpse  of  the  departed  hero.  The  king,  how- 
ever, mourned  the  death  of  Montagu  ;  and,  from  re- 
gard to  the  memory  of  the  marquis,  he  ordered  that 
both  brothers  should  be  laid  among  their  maternal 
ancestors. 

During  the  fourteenth  century,  one  of  those  Earls 
of  Salisbury,  whose  name  is  associated  with  the  era 
of  English  chivalry  and  with  the  noblest  of  European 
orders,  had  founded  an  abbey  at  Bisham,  in  Berk- 
shire. This  religious  house,  which  stood  hard  by 


298  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

the  River  Thames,  and  had  become  celebrated  as 
the  sepulchre  of  the  illustrious  family  which  the 
king-maker,  through  his  mother,  represented,  was 
chosen  as  the  last  resting-place  of  Warwick  and  01 
the  brother  who  fought  and  fell  with  him  at  Bar- 
net.  At  the  Reformation,  Bisham  Abbey  was  de- 
stroyed ;  and,  unfortunately,  nothing  was  left  to 
mark  the  spot  where  repose  the  ashes  of  "  The  Stout 
Earl,"  whom.  Shakspeare  celebrates  as  the  "  proud 
setter-up  and  puller-down  of  kings." 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

BEFORE   TEWKESBUKY. 

IT  was  Easter  Sunday,  in  the  year  1471,  and  the 
battle  of  Barnet  had  been  fought.  Exeter  lay 
stretched  among  the  dead  and  the  dying  on  the 
blood-stained  heath  of  Gladsmuir ;  Oxford  was  spur- 
ring toward  the  north ;  Somerset  was  escaping  to- 
ward the  west ;  Henry  of  Windsor  had  been  led 
back  to  his  prison  in  the  Tower;  the  bodies  of 
Warwick  and  Montagu  were  being  conveyed  in  one 
coffin  to  St.  Paul's  ;  and  Edward  of  York  was  at  the 
metropolitan  cathedral,  offering  his  standard  upon 
the  altar,  and  returning  thanks  to  GOD  for  his  vic- 
tory over  the  Red  Rose  of  Lancaster  and  the  flower 
of  the  ancient  nobility,  when  Margaret  of  Anjou 
once  more  set  foot  on  the  shores  of  England.  Nor, 
in  circumstances  so  inauspicious,  did  she  arrive  as 
a  solitary  victim.  Accompanied  by  the  son  of  the 
captive  king  and  the  daughter  of  the  fallen  earl, 
and  attended  by  Lord  Wenlock,  Sir  John  Fortescue, 
and  the  Prior  of  St.  John's,  came  the  Lancastrian 
queen  on  that  day  when  the  wounded  were  dying, 
and  the  riflers  prying,  and  the  ravens  flying  over  the 
field  of  Barnet. 


300  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

At  Weymouth,  on  the  coast  of  Devon,  Margaret 
landed  with  the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales. 
From  Weymouth,  the  ill-starred  queen  was  escort- 
ed to  the  Abbey  of  Cearnc,  a  religious  house  in  the 
neighborhood.  While  at  Cearne,  resting  from  the 
fatigues  of  her  voyage,  she  Avas  informed  of  the  de- 
feat of  the  Lancastrians  and  the  death  of  Warwick. 

Margaret  had  hitherto,  through  all  perils  and 
perplexities,  been  sustained  by  her  high  spirit.  She 
had  won  the  reputation  of  being  one  of  the  race  of 
steel,  who  felt  her  soul  brighten  in  danger,  and  who 
never  knew  fear  without  such  a  feeling  being  suc- 
ceeded by  a  blush  at  having  yielded  to  such  weak- 
ness. Oa  hearing  of  the  defeat  at  Barnet,  however, 
she  evinced  the  utmost  alarm,  raised  her  hands  to 
heaven,  closed  her  eyes,  and,  in  a  state  of  bewilder- 
ment, sunk  swooning  to  the  ground.  Her  first 
idea,  on  recovering  consciousness,  was  to  return  to 
France  ;  but,  meanwhile,  for  the  sake  of  personal 
safety,  she  hastened  to  the  Abbey  of  Beaulieu,  in 
Hampshire,  and  registered  herself  and  her  whole 
party  as  persons  availing  themselves  of  the  privilege 
of  sanctuary. 

A  rumor  of  the  queen's  arrival  reached  the  chiefs 
of  the  Red  Rose  party ;  and  to  Beaulieu,  without 
delay,  went  Somerset,  with  his  brother,  John  Beau- 
fort, whom  the  Lancastrians  called  Marquis  of 
Dorset,  and  John,  Earl  of  Devon,  head  of  the  great 


MARGARET  AT  BEATLIKT.  301 

house  of  Courtenaj.  These  noblemen  found  Mar- 
garet plunged  in  grief,  and  resolved  on  returning  to 
France  till  GOD  should  send  her  better  fortune. 
Their  presence,  however,  in  some  degree,  revived 
the  courage  which  had  so  often  shone  forth  in  ad- 
versity ;  and  Somerset  strongly  urged  her  to  brave 
fortune  and  the  foe  on  another  field.  With  the  ut- 
most difficulty  Margaret  was  brought  to  consent  to 
the  proposal,  and  even  then  she  hesitated  and  grew 
pale.  Indeed,  the  ill-fated  heroine  confessed  that 
she  feared  for  her  son,  and  intimated  her  wish  that 
he  should  be  sent  to  France,  there  to  remain  till  a 
victory  had  been  won.  But  to  this  scheme  decided 
opposition  was  expressed.  Somerset  and  the  Lan- 
castrian lords  argued  that  the  Prince  of  Wales  should 
remain  in  England  to  lead  the  adherents  of  the  Red 
Rose  to  battle,  "  he  being,"  as  they  said,  "  the  morn- 
ing sun  of  the  Lancastrian  hopes,  the  rays  of  which 
were  very  resplendent  to  meet  English  eyes;"  and 
the  royal  boy,  we  can  well  believe,  was  prepared 
rather  to  die  at  once  on  a  field  of  fame,  than  live 
through  years  of  exile  to  expire  in  inglorious  ob- 
scurity. 

At  length  Margaret  yielded  to  the  general  wish, 
and  the  Lancastrian  chiefs  formed  their  plans  for 
mustering  an  army.  No  insuperable  difficulties 
pri'.-enti'd  themselves.  Shortly  before  Barnet  was 
fought,  John  Beaufort  and  the  Earl  of  Devon  had 


302  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

gone  westward  from  Coventry  to  levy  forces,  and 
Jasper  Tudor  had  been  sent  into  Wales  on  a  similar 
errand.  The  idea  of  the  Lancastrians  was  to  draw 
together  the  men  enlisted  in  the  west,  to  join  Jasper 
Tudor,  who  was  still  zealously  recruiting  in  Wale?, 
to  secure  the  services  of  the  archers  in  which  Lan- 
cashire and  Cheshire  abounded,  and  to  summon  the 
prickers  of  the  northern  counties  to  that  standard 
under  which  they  had  conquered  at  Wakefield  and 
Bernard's  Heath.  The  plan  of  campaign  was,  as 
we  shall  hereafter  see,  such  as  to  place  Edward's 
throne  in  considerable  peril ;  and  the  imaginations 
of  the  Lancastrian  chiefs  caught  fire  at  the  prospect 
of  triumph.  Somerset  openly  boasted  that  the  Bed 
Rose  party  was  rather  strengthened  than  enfeebled 
by  Warwick's  fall ;  and  Oxford,  who  had  recovered 
from  the  bewilderment  which  had  lost  his  friends  a 
victory  at  Barnet,  wrote  to  his  countess,  AVarwick's 
sister,  "  Be  of  good  cheer,  and  take  no  thought,  for 
I  shall  bring  my  purpose  about  now  by  the  grace 
of  GOD." 

Unfortunately  for  the  champions  of  the  Red  Rose, 
they  had  to  contend  with  no  ordinary  antagonist. 
Almost  ere  they  had  formed  their  plans,  the  king 
was  aware  that  they  were  in  motion ;  and,  some- 
what alarmed,  he  faced  the  new  danger  with  the  en- 
ergy and  spirit  that  had  laid  Warwick  low.  Within 
a  week  after  his  victory  at  Barnet,  Edward,  having 


EDWARD  AT  WINDSOR.  303 

placed  Henry  of  Windsor  securely  in  the  Tower,  and 
also  committed  George  Neville,  Archbishop  of  York, 
to  the  metropolitan  fortress,  marched  from  London 
with  such  forces  as  were  at  hand ;  and  at  Windsor, 
within  the  castle  of  his  regal  ancestors,  he  remained 
nearly  a  week  to  celebrate  the  feast  of  St.  George, 
to  await  the  remainder  of  his  tixtops,  and  to  obtain 
such  intelligence  of  the  enemy's  movements  as  might 
enable  him  to  defeat  their  project.  As  yet  the  king 
was  utterly  uncertain  whether  the  Red  Eose  chiefs 
intended  marching  toward  London  or  leading  their 
adherents  northward.  His  predicament  was,  there- 
fore, awkward.  If  he  hastened  on  to  protect  the 
north  from  being  invaded,  he  left  London  at  their 
mercy ;  if  he  remained  to  guard  the  capital,  he  left 
the  north  free  to  their  incursions.  The  king's  great 
object,  under  such  circumstances,  was  to  bring  the 
Lancastrians  to  battle  at  the  earliest  possible  period. 
His  army,  indeed,  was  small ;  but,  as  affairs  then 
were,  he  had  little  hope  of  its  being  increased ;  and 
he  appears  to  have  placed  much  reliance  on  the 
artillery,  with  which  he  was  well  provided.  But, 
anxious  as  Edward  might  be  to  meet  his  foes  face 
to  face,  he  checked  his  natural  impetuosity,  and  de- 
clined to  advance  a  mile  without  having  calculated 
the  consequences. 

Meanwhile,  the  Lancastrian  standard  was  set  up 
at  Exeter,  and  to  "  the  London  of  the  West"  the 


304  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

men  of  Devon,  Somerset,  and  Cornwall  wen?  invited 
to  repair.  The  Red  Rose  din-is  perfectly  compre- 
hended the  dilemma  in  which  Kdwnrd  was  placed, 
and  were  prepared  to  act  just  as  circumstances  ren- 
dered safe  and  expedient.  If  they  could  draw  their 
potent  foe  from  the  neighborhood  of  London,  they 
would  march  on  the  metropolis.  If  they  could  keep 
him  in  the  neighborhood  of  London,  they  would 
cross  the  Severn,  join  Jasper  Tudor,  march  into 
Lancashire  and  Cheshire,  and  raise  the  men  of  the 
north  to  overturn  the  Yorkist,  throne.  One  thing 
they  did  not  desire — that  was  an  early  meeting  with 
the  conqueror  of  Towton  and  Barnet. 

At  Exeter,  Margaret  of  Anjou,  with  the  Prince 
and  Princess  of  "Wales,  joined  the  adherents  of  the 
Red  Rose,  and  prepared  for  those  military  opera- 
tions which,  she  hoped,  would  hurl  Edward  of  York 
from  the  throne.  Ere  venturing  upon  the  terrible 
task,  however,  the  queen,  with  the  Lancastrian 
chiefs,  made  a  progress  throughout  the  west  to  col- 
lect recruits.  From  Exeter  she  proceeded  with  this 
object  to  Bath,  a  town  which  then  consisted  of  a  few 
hundreds  of  houses,  crowded  within  an  old  wall, 
hard  by  the  Avon,  and  which  derived  some  renown 
from  those  springs  whose  healing  qualities  Bladud 
had  discovered  under  the  guidance  of  hogs,  and 
whose  virtues  had  recommended  the  place  to  the 
Romans  when  they  came  to  Britain  as  resistless  con- 
querors. 


THE  WEST  IX  ARMS.  305 

At  Bath,  Margaret's  friends  learned  that  Edward 
was  watching  her  movements  with  a  vigilance  that 
rendered  an  early  junction  with  Jasper  Tudor  ex- 
tremely desirable;  and,  having  considerably  in- 
creased in  number,  the  Lancastrians  took  their  way 
to  Bristol,  a  town  with  strong  walls,  which  the 
Flemings,  brought  over  by  Philippa  of  Hainault, 
had  made  the  seat  of  an  extensive  woolen  trade. 

The  inhabitants  of  Bristol  had  manifested  much 
loyalty  to  Edward,  when,  during  the  harvest-time 
of  1462,  the  young  Yorkist  king  appeared  within 
their  walls,  and  executed  Sir  Baldwin  Fulford  and 
other  Lancastrians.  Since  that  event,  celebrated  by 
Chatterton  as  "  The  Bristowe  Tragedy,"  well-nigh 
nine  years  had  elapsed,  and,  during  that  time,  their 
attention  had  been  attracted  from  the  Wars  of  the 
Roses  to  a  war  nearer  home.  It  is  probable  that 
the  contentions  of  York  and  Lancaster  had  excited 
less  interest  than  the  feud  between  the  houses  of 
Berkeley  and  Lisle ;  and  that  the  field  of  Barnet 
had  created  less  excitement  than  that  of  Nibley 
Green,  where,  one  March  morning  in  1470,  William 
Lord  Berkeley  and  Thomas  Talbot,  Lord  Lisle, 
fought  that  battle  known  as  "  The  English  Chevy 
Chase." 

But,  however  loyal  the  citizens  of  Bristol  might 
be  to  Edward  of  York,  they  knew  that  Margaret 
of  Anjou  was  not  a  woman  to  be  trifled  with  ;  and, 
U 


306  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

however  little  they  might  relish  the  spectacle  of 
Lancastrian  warriors  crowding  their  streets,  they 
were  ready  enough  to  furnish  the  Red  Rose  chiefs 
with  money,  provisions,  and  artillery.  After  re- 
ceiving these  supplies,  the  Lancastrian  queen,  anx- 
ious to  cross  the  Severn,  relieved  Bristol  of  her 
presence  on  the  2d  of  May — it  was  a  Thursday — 
and  led  her  army  toward  that  valley  which,  of  old, 
had  been  depicted  by  William  of  Malmesbury  as  rich 
in  fruit  and  corn,  and  abounding  in  vineyards. 

The  king's  pursuit  of  his  enemies  had,  in  the  mean 
time,  been  at  once  absorbing  as  a  game  of  chess  and 
exciting  as  a  fox-hunt.  For  a  time,  he  was  unable 
to  comprehend  their  movements,  and  forced  to  act 
with  extreme  caution.  Indeed,  Edward  was  not  un- 
aware that  the  Lancastrian  leaders  were  exercising 
their  utmost  energy  to  outwit  him ;  and  he  knew 
full  well  that  one  false  step  on  his  part  would,  in 
all  likelihood,  decide  the  campaign  in  their  favor. 
At  length,  becoming  aware  that  they  were  spread- 
ing rumors  of  their  intention  to  advance  to  London 
by  Oxford  and  Reading,  the  king  concluded  that 
their  real  intention  was  to  march  northward ;  and, 
leading  his  army  forth  from  Windsor,  he  encamped 
at  Abingdon,  a  town  of  Berkshire,  on  the  River 
Thames.  Learning,  at  Abingdon,  that  Margaret 
and  her  captains  were  still  at  Wells,  he  moved  a 
little  northward  to  Cirencester,  in  Gloucestershire, 


THE  KING  ON  THE  ALERT.  307 

and  was  then  informed  that  the  Lancastrians  were 
about  to  leave  Bath  and  give  him  battle  on  the  1st 
of  May — the  anniversary  of  his  ill-judged  and  ill- 
starred  marriage. 

Eager  for  a  conflict,  the  king  marched  his  army 
out  of  the  town  of  Cirencester,  and,  encamping  in 
the  neigboring  fields,  awaited  the  arrival  of  his  foes. 
Edward  soon  found,  however,  that  he  had  been  de- 
ceived ;  and,  in  hopes  of  finding  them,  marched  to 
Malmesbury,  in  Wiltshire.  Learning,  at  that  town, 
that  the  Lancastrians  had  turned  aside  to  Bristol, 
he  went  to  Sodbury,  a  place  about  ten  miles  dis- 
tant from  the  emporium  of  the  west :  and,  at  Sod- 
bury,  from  the  circumstances  of  his  men,  while  rid- 
ing into  the  town  to  secure  quarters,  encountering  a 
body  of  the  enemy's  outriders,  and  the  Lancastrians 
having  sent  forward  men  to  take  their  ground  on 
Sodbury  Hill,  he  believed  that  their  army  was  at  no 
great  distance.  Eager  for  intelligence,  Edward  sent 
light  horsemen  to  scour  the  country,  and  encamped 
on  Sodbury  Hill.  About  midnight  on  Thursday, 
scouts  came  into  the  camp,  and  Edward's  suspense 
was  terminated.  It  appeared  beyond  doubt  that  the 
Lancastrians  were  on  full  march  from  Bristol  to 
Gloucester ;  and  the  king,  awake  to  the  crisis,  lost 
no  time  in  holding  a  council  of  war.  A  decision 
was  rapidly  arrived  at ;  and  a  messenger  dispatched 
post-haste  to  Richard,  Lord  Beauchamp  of  Powicke, 


308  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

then  Governor  of  Gloucester,  with  instructions  to 
refuse  the  Lancastrians  admittance  and  a  promise 
to  relieve  the  city  forthwith  in  case  of  its  being  as- 
sailed. 

Events  now  hastened  rapidly  onward.  The  king's 
messenger  had  no  time  to  lose  ;  for  the  Lancastrian 
army,  having  marched  all  night,  was  pushing  on  to- 
ward the  vale  of  Gloucester.  The  vale,  as  the  read- 
er may  be  aware,  is  semicircular — the  Severn  form- 
ing the  chord,  the  Cotswold  Hills  the  arc  ;  and 
Cheltenham,  Gloucester,  and  Tewkesbury  making  a 
triangle  with  its  area.  Into  the  second  of  these 
towns  Margaret  expected  to  be  admitted ;  and  she 
calculated  on  being  enabled,  under  the  protection 
of  its  walls  and  castle,  to  pass  the  Severn  without 
interruption,  and  to  form  a  junction  with  Jasper 
Tudor,  who  was  all  bustle  and  enthusiasm  in  Wales. 

A  grievous  disappointment  awaited  the  Lancas- 
trian army — a  bitter  mortification  the  Lancastrian 
queen.  On  Friday  morning,  a  few  hours  after  sun- 
rise, Margaret  of  Anjou,  with  the  warriors  of  the 
Red  Rose,  appeared  before  Gloucester.  But  Beau- 
champ,  having  received  Edward's  message,  positive- 
ly refused  to  open  the  gates ;  and  when  Margaret, 
with  a  heavy  heart,  turned  aside  and  proceeded  to- 
ward Tewkesbury,  he  still  farther  displayed  his 
Yorkist  zeal  by  hanging  on  the  rear  of  the  Lancas- 
trians, and  doing  them  all  the  mischief  he  could. 


THE  MARCH.  30'J 

Even  Somerset  must  have  confessed  that  the  aspect 
of  affairs  was  now  the  reverse  of  bright ;  and,  after 
leaving  Gloucester  behind,  every  thing  began  to  go 
wrong.  The  march  lay  through  woods  and  lanes, 
and  over  stony  ground ;  and  the  soldiers,  hungry 
and  foot-sore,  were  oppressed  with  the  heat  of  the 
weather.  Moreover,  the  peasantry,  inclined,  for 
some  reason  or  other,  to  oppose  the  progress  of  the 
Lancastrians,  secured  the  fords  by  which  the  Severn 
might  have  been  crossed ;  and  Beauchamp  not  only 
harassed  the  rear  of  the  queen's  army,  but  succeed- 
ed in  capturing  some  artillery,  which  she  was  in  no 
condition  to  spare.  At  length,  on  Friday  after- 
noon, after  having  marched  thirty-six  miles,  with- 
out rest,  and  almost  without  food,  the  Lancastrians, 
weary  and  dispirited,  reached  Tewkesbury,  a  little 
town  standing  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Severn,  and 
deriving  some  dignity  from  a  Norman  abbey,  known 
far  and  wide  as  the  sepulchre  of  a  mighty  race  of 
barons,  whose  chiefs  fought  at  Evesham  and  fell  at 
Bannockburn.  At  this  place,  Avhich  had  been  in- 
herited from  the  De  Clares,  through  Beauchamps 
and  Despensers,  by  the  Countess  of  Warwick,  the 
Lancastrian  leaders  halted  to  refresh  their  men. 

Early  on  that  morning,  when  the  queen  and  her 
captains  appeared  before  Gloucester,  Edward  left 
Sodbury,  and  led  his  army  over  the  Cotswolds, 
whose  sheep  and  shepherds  old  Drayton  has  cele- 


310  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

brated.  His  soldiers  suffered  much  from  heat,  and 
still  more  for  want  of  water  ;  only  meeting,  on  their 
way,  with  one  brook,  the  water  of  which,  as  men  and 
horses  dashed  in,  was  soon  rendered  unfit  for  use. 
Onward,  however,  in  spite  of  heat  and  thirst,  as  if 
prescient  of  victory,  pressed  Edward's  soldiers,  some- 
times within  five  miles  of  their  enemies — the  York- 
m  a  champaign  country,  and  the  Lancastrians 
among  woods — but  the  chiefs  of  both  armies  direct- 
ing their  march  toward  the  same  point.  At  length, 
after  having  marched  more  than  thirty  miles,  the 
Yorkists  reached  a  little  village  situated  on  the 
River  Chelt,  secluded  in  the  vale  of  Gloucester,  and 
consisting  of  a  few  thatched  cottages  forming  a 
straggling  street  near  a  church  with  an  ancient 
spire,  which  had  been  erected  in  honor  of  St.  Mary 
before  the  Plantagenets  came  to  rule  in  England. 
At  this  hamlet,  which  the  saline  springs,  discovered 
some  centuries  later  by  the  flight  of  pigeons,  have 
metamorphosed  into  a  beautiful  and  luxurious  city, 
Edward  halted  to  recruit  the  energies  and  re- 
fresh the  spirits  of  his  followers.  At  Cheltenham 
the  king  received  intelligence  that  the  foe  was  at 
Tewkesbury ;  and,  marching  in  that  direction,  he 
encamped  for  the  night  in  a  field  hard  by  the  Lan» 
castrian  camp. 

Ere  the  king  reached  Cheltenham  the  Lancastri- 
ans had  formed  their  plans.    On  arriving  at  Tewkes- 


A  NIGHT  BY  THE  SEVERN.  311 

bury.  Somerset,  aware  that  the  Yorkists  were  fast 
approaching,  intimated  his  intention  to  remain  and 
give  Edward  battle.  Margaret,  as  if  with  the  pre- 
sentiment of  a  tragic  catastrophe,  was  all  anxiety  to 
cross  the  Severn ;  and  many  of  the  captains  sym- 
pathized with  their  queen's  wish.  Somerset,  how- 
ever, carried  his  point ;  and,  indeed,  it  is  not  easy  to 
comprehend  how  the  Lancastrians  could,  under  the 
circumstances,  have  attempted  a  passage  without  ex- 
posing their  rear  to  certain  destruction.  Somerset's 
opinion  on  any  subject  may  not  have  been  worth 
much ;  but  he  does  not  appear  to  have  been  in  the 
wrong  when  he  decided  on  encamping  at  Tewkes- 
bury,  and  when  he  declared  his  intention  there  to 
abide  such  fortune  as  GOD  should  send. 

So  at  Tewkesbury,  through  that  summer  night, 
within  a  short  distance  of  each  other,  the  armies  of 
York  and  Lancaster,  under  the  sons  of  those  who, 
years  before,  had  plucked  the  roses  in  the  Temple 
Garden,  and  encountered  with  mortal  hatred  in  the 
streets  of  St.  Albans,  animated  moreover  by  such 
vindictive  feelings  as  the  memory  of  friends  and 
kinsmen  slain  in  the  field  and  executed  on  the  scaf- 
fold could  not  fail  to  inspire,  awaited  the  light  of 
another  day,  to  fight  their  twelfth  battle  for  the 
crown  of  England. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE   FIELD    OF   TEWKESBURV. 

ON  Saturday  the  4th  of  May,  1471,  ere  the  bell 
of  Tewkcsbury  Abbey  tolled  "  the  sweet  hour  of 
prime,"  or  the  monks  had  assembled  to  sing  the 
morning  hymn,  King  Edward  was  astir  and  making 
ready  to  attack  the  Lancastrians. 

Mounted  on  a  brown  charger,  with  his  magnifi- 
cent person  clad  in  Milan  steel,  a  crown  of  oi'na- 
ment  around  his  helmet,  and  the  arms  of  France 
and  England  quarterly  on  his  shield,  the  king  set 
his  men  in  order  for  the  assault.  The  van  of  the 
Yorkist  army  was  committed  to  Richard,  Duke  of 
Gloucester,  whose  skill  and  courage  on  the  field  of 
Uarnet  had  made  him,  at  nineteen,  the  hero  among 
those  of  whom,  at  thirty,  he  was  to  be  the  heads- 
man. The  centre  host  Edward  commanded  in  per- 
son ;  and  by  the  side  of  the  royal  warrior  figured 
the  ill-starred  Clarence,  never  again  to  be  fully 
trusted  by  his  brother.  The  rear  was  intrusted  to 
the  guidance  of  Lord  Hastings,  and  to  Elizabeth 
Woodville's  eldest  son,  Thomas  Grey,  Marquis  of 
Dorset.  Thus  arrayed,  flushed  with  recent  victory 
over  mighty  adversaries,  the  Yorkist  warriors,  in  all 


PRELIMINARIES.  313 

tliu  pride  of  valor,  and  all  the  confidence  of  victory, 
prepared  to  advance  upon  their  foes. 

Meanwhile,  the  Red  Rose  chiefs  were  not  idle. 
Having  encamped  south  of  the  town  of  TewJces- 
burj,  on  some  rising  ground,  part  of  which  is  still 
known  as  "  Queen  Margaret's  Camp,"  the  Lancas- 
trians appear  to  have  made  the  most  of  their  ad- 
vantages. Defended  as  they  were  in  their  rear  by 
the  Abbey,  and  in  front  and  on  both  sides  by 
hedges,  lanes,  and  ditches,  they  intrenched  their 
position  strongly,  in  the  hope  of  keeping  Edward  at 
bay  till  the  arrival  of  Jasper  Tudor,  who  was  be- 
lieved to  be  rapidly  approaching ;  and,  at  the  same 
time,  they  left  openings  in  their  intrenchments, 
through  which,  should  such  a  course  seem  expe- 
dient, they  might  sally  forth  upon  the  assailing  foe. 

Their  camp  thus  fortified,  the  Lancastrian  leaders 
disposed  the  army  of  the  Red  Rose  in  three  divisions. 
Of  the  first  of  these  Somerset,  aided  by  his  brother, 
John  Beaufort,  took  the  command ;  the  second  was 
committed  to  the  auspices  of  Edward,  Prince  of 
Wales,  the  Prior  of  St.  John,  and  Lord  Wenlock, 
who,  having  shared  the  Lancastrian  defeat  at  St. 
Albans  and  the  Yorkist  triumph  at  Towton,  had 
once  more,  in  an  evil  hour,  placed  Queen  Mar- 
garet's badge  on  his  gorget ;  and  the  third  was  con- 
fided to  the  Earl  of  Devon,  the  youngest  of  three 
brothers,  two  of  whom,  after  wearing  the  coronet  of 


314  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

the  Courtenays,  had  died  on  the  scaffold  for  their 
fidelity  to  the  Red  Rose. 

While  the  Lancastrians  were  forming  their  line  of 
battje,  King  Edward  gave  the  order  to  advance ;  and, 
with  banners  displayed,  with  clarions  and  trumpets 
sounding  a  march,  and  with  Gloucester  leading  the 
van,  and  perhaps  even  then  dreaming  of  a  crown, 
the  Yorkist  army  moved  forward,  gay  with  knights 
and  nobles  in  rich  armor  and  broidered  vests,  their 
lances  gleaming  in  the  merry  sunshine,  their  plumes 
and  pennons  dancing  in  the  morning  breeze,  and 
their  mailed  steeds,  with  chaffrons  of  steel  project- 
ing from  barbed  frontals,  caracoling  at  the  touch  of 
the  spur.  Within  a  mile  of  the  Lancastrian  camp 
Edward  halted  his  men ;  and  his  large  blue  eye, 
which  took  in  the  whole  position  of  his  enemies, 
wandered  jealously  to  the  park  of  Tewkesbury, 
which  was  situated  to  the  right  of  Somerset's  di- 
vision. Suspicious  of  an  ambuscade,  the  Yorkist 
king  dispatched  two  hundred  spearmen  from  his 
army  to  proceed  in  that  direction,  and  ordered 
them,  in  case  of  their  not  finding  any  foe  lurking 
in  the  wood,  to  take  such  part  in  the  battle  as  cir- 
cumstances should  render  expedient.  Having  sat- 
isfied himself  with  this  precaution,  the  king  ordered 
his  banners  to  advance,  and  his  trumpets  to  sound 
an  onset. 

When  the  hour  of  conflict  drew  nigh,  Margaret 


MARGARET  AND  HER  SON.  315 

of  Anjou,  accompanied  by  the  heir  of  Lancaster, 
rode  along  the  lines  and  addressed  the  adherents  of 
the  Red  Hose.  Never,  perhaps,  had  the  daughter 
of  King  Rene  looked  more  queenly  than  on  the  field 
of  Tewkesbury ;  never  had  she  enacted  her  part 
with  more  art  than  she  did  on  the  eve  of  that  catas- 
trophe which  was  to  plunge  her  to  the  depths  of 
despair.  Though  sick  at  heart,  and  more  than 
doubtful  as  to  the  issue  of  the  field,  she  assumed  the 
aspect  of  perfect  confidence,  and  spoke  as  if  inspired 
with  the  hope  of  victory.  Years  of  trouble  had,  of 
course,  destroyed  those  exquisite  charms  which  in 
youth  had  made  Margaret  famous  as  the  beauty  of 
Christendom,  but  had  not  deprived  her  of  the  power 
of  subduing  men  to  her  purposes,  even  against  their 
better  judgment.  Though  her  countenance  bore 
traces  of  the  wear  and  tear  of  anxious  days  and 
sleepless  nights,  her  presence  exercised  on  the  par- 
tisans of  the  house  of  Lancaster  an  influence  not 
less  potent  than  it  had  done  in  days  when  she  pos- 
sessed a  beauty  that  dazzled  all  eyes  and  fascinated 
all  hearts. 

Nor  did  the  heir  of  Lancaster  appear,  by  any 
means,  unworthy  of  such  a  mother,  as,  armed  com- 
plete in  mail,  he  accompanied  her  along  the  lines, 
his  standard  borne  by  John  Gower.  Imagine  the 
boy-warrior,  gifted  as  he  was  with  all  the  graces  of 
rank  and  royalty,  frankness  and  chivalry ;  his  eye 


316  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

sparkling  with  the  pride  and  valor  of  the  Plantage- 
nets  ;  the  arms  of  France  and  England  blazoned  on 
his  shield,  his  tabard,  and  the  caparisons  of  his  horse, 
and  it  will  not  be  difficult  to  conceive  the  influence 
which,  in  spite  of  his  foreign  accent,  such  a  grand- 
son of  the  conqueror  of  Agincourt,  uttering  senti- 
ments worthy  of  the  pupil  of  Fortescue  in  language 
worthy  of  the  son  of  Margaret  of  Anjou,  exercised 
on  the  Lancastrian  host  when  about  to  encounter 
the  partisans  of  the  White  Rose. 

Margaret  of  Anjou  was  not  unaware  of  the  effect 
produced  by  the  fair  face  and  graceful  figure  of  the 
Prince  of  Wales.  Glancing,  with  maternal  pride, 
at  the  royal  boy,  who  rode  at  her  right  hand,  she 
reined  in  her  palfrey,  and,  having  with  a  gesture 
obtained  an  audience,  she  encouraged  her  partisans, 
in  a  voice  promising  victory,  to  do  their  duty  val- 
iantly against  Edward  of  York  and  prove  their  cour- 
age on  the  crests  of  the  usurper's  adherents.  "  It 
remained  for  them,  the  soldiers  of  the  Red  Rose," 
said  the  queen,  in  accents  which  quickened  the  pulse 
and  nerved  the  arm  of  the  listeners,  "  to  restore  an 
imprisoned  king  to  liberty  and  his  throne,  and  to  se- 
cure for  themselves,  not  only  safety,  but  distinctions 
and  rewards.  Did  the  inequalities  of  number  daunt 
them  ?  She  could  not  doubt  that  their  stout  hearts, 
animated  by  the  justice  of  their  cause,  would  enable 
them  to  overcome  in  spite  of  disparity.  Did  they 


OPENING  OF  THE^  BATTLE.  317 

lack  motives  to  be  valiant  against  the  foe  ?  Let 
them  look  upon  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  fight  for 
him,  their  fellow-soldier,  who  was  now  to  share  their 
fortune  on  the  field ;  and  who,  once  in  possession  of 
his  rights,  would  not  forget  those  to  whose  courage 
he  owed  the  throne.  The  kingdom  of  England 
should  be  their  inheritance,  to  be  divided  among 
them  ;  the  wealth  of  the  rebellious  cities  should  be 
their  spoil ;  they  should  be  rewarded  for  their  de- 
votion with  all  those  titles  which  their  enemies  now 
proudly  wore  ;  and,  above  all,  they  should  enjoy  last- 
ing fame  and  honor  throughout  the  realm." 

An  enthusiastic  response  arose  from  the  ranks  of 
the  Lancastrians  as  their  heroic  queen  concluded 
her  spirit-stirring  address  ;  and  the  warriors  of  the 
Red  Rose  indicated,  by  signs  not  to  be  mistaken, 
their  alacrity  to  fight  to  the  death  for  the  rights  of 
such  a  mother  and  such  a  son.  Perhaps,  at  that 
moment,  Margaret,  infected  with  the  excitement 
which  her  own  eloquence  had  created,  almost  per- 
suaded herself  to  hope.  No  hour  was  that,  how- 
ever, to  indulge  in  day-dreams.  Ere  the  enthusi- 
asm of  the  Lancastrians  had  time  to  die  away,  Rich- 
ard of  Gloucester  had  advanced  his  banner  to  their 
camp,  and  the  troops  under  the  young  duke  were 
storming  the  intrenchments. 

Gloucester,  as  leader  of  the  Yorkist  van,  found 
himself  opposed  to  the  Lancastrians  whom  Somer- 


318  THE  WARS  OK  THE  ROSES. 

set  commanded  in  person ;  and,  the  ferocity  of  his 
nature  being  doubtless  inflamed  by  the  hereditary 
antipathy  of  the  house  of  York  to  the  house  of  Beau- 
fort, he  made  a  furious  assault.  The  onslaught  of 
the  stripling  war-chief,  however,  proved  of  no  avail ; 
for  the  nature  of  the  ground  was  such  as  to  prevent 
the  Yorkists  from  coming  hand  to  hand  with  their 
foes,  while  the  Lancastrians,  posted  among  bushes 
and  trees,  galled  their  assailants  with  showers  of  ar- 
rows. Gloucester  was  somewhat  cowed,  but  his 
guile  did  not  desert  him.  He  assumed  the  air  of  a 
man  who  was  baffled,  pretended  to  be  repulsed,  and, 
retiring  from  the  assault,  contented  himself  with  or- 
dering the  artillery,  with  which  the  Yorkists  wsre 
better  provided  than  their  foes,  to  play  upon  the 
Lancastrian  ranks. 

The  aspect  of  the  battle  was  now  decidedly  in  fa- 
vor of  the  Red  Rose,  and  such  as  to  cause  the  York- 
ists some  degree  of  anxiety.  What  the  Lancastri- 
ans wanted  was  a  Avar-chief  of  courage  and  expe- 
rience, and  Somerset  neither  had  the  talents  nor  the 
experience  requisite  for  the  occasion.  At  the  head 
of  that  host  on  the  banks  of  the  Severn,  such  a  man 
as  the  fifth  Henry,  or  John,  Duke  of  Bedford,  might, 
by  a  decisive  victory,  have  Avon  back  Margaret's 
crown.  But  the  grandson  of  Katherine  S\vynford 
had  not  been  intended  by  GOD  and  nature  to  cope 
with  the  royal  warrior  Avho  laid  Wanvick  low. 


GLOUCESTER'S  STRATAGEM.       319 

Somerset  had  still  to  learn  his  incapacity  for  the 
part  he  had  undertaken  to  enact.  As  yet  he  was 
under  the  influence  of  such  a  degree  of  vanity  as 
prompted  him  to  the  rashest  courses.  Elate  at  Glou- 
cester's retreat,  and  concluding  that  a  determined 
effort  would  render  the  Lancastrians  victorious,  the 
shallow  duke  led  his  men  through  the  openings  that 
had  been  left  in  their  intrenchments.  Descending 
from  the  elevated  ground,  he  charged  Edward's  cen- 
tre host  with  violence,  drove  that  part  of  the  York- 
ist army  back,  and  then,  with  infinitely  less  prudence 
than  presumption,  followed  the  wily  Gloucester  into 
the  open  meadows, 

Once  fairly  away  from  his  intrenchments,  the 
Lancastrian  leader  found  too  late  the  error  he  had 
committed.  Gloucester's  stratagem  had  been  at- 
tended with  a  success  which  even  he  could  hardly 
have  anticipated.  Suddenly  wheeling  round  and 
shouting  their  battle-cry,  the  boy-duke  and  the 
Yorkists  turned  upon  their  pursuers  with  the  fury 
of  lions ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  two  hundred 
spearmen  who  had  been  sent  to  guard  against  an 
ambuscade  in  Tewkesbury  Park  came  rushing  to 
the  conflict,  and  made  a  vigorous  attack  upon  Som- 
erset's flank.  Taken  by  surprise,  the  Lancastrian 
van  fled  in  disorder.  Some  made  for  the  park ; 
some  ran  toward  the  meadows ;  others  flung  them- 
selves into  the  ditches ;  and  so  many  were  beaten 


320  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

down  and  slain  where  they  fought,  that  the  green- 
sward was  crimsoned  with  gore. 

Gloucester  did  not  pause  in  the  work  of  destruc- 
tion. After  cheering  on  his  men  to  the  carnage,  he 
pursued  Somerset  up  the  hill,  availed  himself  of  the 
Lancastrians'  confusion  to  force  his  way  through 
their  intrenchments,  and  carried  into  their  camp 
that  terror  with  which  his  grisly  cognizance  seldom 
failed  to  inspire  his  enemies. 

The  plight  of  the  Lancastrians  now  became  des- 
perate. Somerset,  having  lost  his  followers,  lost  his 
temper,  and  with  it  every  chance  of  victory.  In- 
deed, the  duke  appears  to  have  acted  the  part  of  a 
madman.  On  reaching  the  camp,  flushed  and  furi- 
ous, he  looked  around  for  a  victim  to  sacrifice  to  his 
rage,  and  made  a  selection  which  was  singularly  un- 
fortunate for  the  Lancastrians.  Lord  \Venlock,  it 
seems,  had  not  left  the  camp  to  support  Somerset's 
charge  ;  and  the  duke,  bearing  in  mind  how  recently 
that  nobleman  had  been  converted  from  the  Yorkist 
cause,  rushed  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  playing 
false.  A  fearful  scene  was  the  result.  Biding  to 
the  centre  division  of  the  Lancastrians,  the  exasper- 
ated Beaufort  reviled  Lord  Wenlock  in  language  too 
coarse  to  have  been  recorded,  and,  after  denouncing 
the  aged  warrior  as  traitor  and  coward,  cleft  his 
skull  with  a  battle-axe. 

No  incident  could  have  been  more  unfavorable  to 


ROUT  OF  THE  LANCASTRIANS.  321 

the  fortunes  of  the  Keel  Rose  than  Wenlock's  fall  by 
the  hand  of  Somerset.  A  panic  immediately  seized 
the  Lancastrians ;  and,  ere  they  could  recover  from 
their  confusion,  King  Edward  perceived  his  advant- 
age, cheered  his  men  to  the  onslaught,  spurred  over 
hedge  and  ditch,  and  dashed,  on  his  brown  charger, 
fiercely  into  the  intrenched  camp.  Irresistible  we 
can  well  imagine  the  onset  of  that  horse  and  that 
rider  to  have  been — the  strong  war-steed,  with  his 
frontal  of  steel,  making  a  way  through  the  enemy's 
disordered  ranks,  and  the  tall  warrior  dispersing  all 
around  with  the  sweep  of  his  terrible  sword.  Vain 
was  then  the  presence  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  gal- 
lant as  the  bearing  of  the  royal  boy  doubtless  was. 
Indeed,  all  the  princes  of  John  of  Gaunt's  lineage 
could  not  now  have  turned  the  tide  of  fight.  After 
a  faint  struggle,  the  Lancastrians  recoiled  in  con- 
sternation ;  and,  throwing  down  their  arms,  fled  be- 
fore Edward  and  his  knights  as  deer  before  the 
hunters.  The  rout  was  rapid  and  complete.  The 
field  presented  a  fearful  scene  of  panic,  confusion, 
and  slaughter.  Some  of  the  vanquished  ran  for 
refuge  into  Tewkesbury ;  others  betook  themselves 
for  safety  to  the  abbey  church ;  and  many,  hotly 
pursued  and  scarcely  knowing  whither  they  went, 
were  drowned  "at  a  mill  in  the  meadow  fast  by 
the  town." 

Somerset,  on  seeing   the  ruin   his  rashness  had 
X 


322  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

brought  on  his  friends,  fled  from  the  scene  of  car- 
nage. The  duke  ought  not,  perhaps,  to  have  avoid- 
ed the  destruction  to  which  he  had  allured  so  many 
brave  men.  The  chief  of  the  Beaufort?,  however, 
had  no  ambition  to  die  like  the  great  earl  whom  he 
had  deserted  at  Barnet,  nor  to  fall  on  the  field  to 
which  he  had  challenged  his  hereditary  foe.  It  is 
wonderful,  indeed,  that  a  man  who  had  known  little 
of  life  save  its  miseries  should  have  cared  to  sur- 
vive such  a  defeat ;  but  Somerset,  whatever  his  other 
qualities,  had  none  of  that  spirit  which,  at  Bannock- 
burn,  prompted  Argentine  to  exclaim,  "  'Tis  not  my 
wont  to  fly  !"  At  Hexham  and  at  Barnet,  Somer- 
set's principal  exploits  had  consisted  of  availing  him- 
self of  the  speed  of  his  horse  to  escape  the  foe  ;  and 
at  Tewkesbury  he  rushed  cravenly  from  the  field, 
on  which,  a  few  hours  earlier,  he  had  boastfully  de- 
clared that  he  would  abide  such  fortune  as  GOD 
should  send.  The  Prior  of  St.  John,  Sir  Gervasi- 
Clifton,  Sir  Thomas  Tresham,  and  a  number  of 
knights  and  esquires  likewise  sought  safety  in  flight. 
The  Prince  of  Wales  had  hitherto  fought  with 
courage;  and  there  is  some  reason  to  believe  that 
he  fell  fighting  manfully  on  the  field  where  so  much 
blood  was  shed  to  vindicate  his  claims  to  the  crown 
of  England.  Poets,  novelists,  and  historians  have, 
however,  told  a  different  tale,  and  produced  an  im- 
pression that,  when  the  heir  of  Lancaster  found  him- 


THE  CARNAGE.  323 

Self  abandoned  by  Somerset,  and  perceived  the  for- 
tune of  the  day  decidedly  adverse  to  the  Red  Rose, 
he  followed  the  multitude,  who,  shrinking  from  the" 
charge  of  Edward  on  his  berry-brown  steed,  and  of 
Gloucester  with  his  boar's-head  crest,  fled  confused- 
ly toward  the  town. 

But,  however  that  may  have  been,  all  the  war- 
riors of  the  Red  Rose  did  not  fly.  Destruction,  in- 
deed, awaited  every  man  who  stood  his  ground  ;  but 
even  the  certainty  of  death  can  not  daunt  those  who 
are  inspired  by  honor.  Knights  and  nobles,  after 
fighting  with  courage,  fell  with  disdainful  pride,  and 
hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  the  Lancastrians  of  in- 
ferior rank  lost  their  lives  in  the  cause  for  which,  at 
the  summons  of  their  chiefs,  they  had  taken  up 
arms.  There  fell  the  Earl  of  Devon  ;  and  John 
Beaufort,  the  brother  of  Somerset,  and,  save  the 
duke,  the  last  male  heir  of  the  house  of  Beaufort ; 
and  Sir  John  Delves,  the  chief  of  a  family  long  set- 
tled at  Doddington,  in  the  County  Palatine  of  Ches- 
ter; and  Sir  William  Fielding,  whose  descendants, 
in  the  time  of  the  Stuarts,  became  Earls  of  Den- 
bigh ;  and  Sir  Edmund  Hampden,  one  of  that  an- 
cient race  which  had  flourished  in  the  eleventh  cen- 
tury, and  which,  in  the  sixteenth,  produced  the  re- 
nowned leader  of  the  Long  Parliament. 

At  length,  when  three  thousand  Lancastrians  had 
«ierished  on  the  field  of  Tewkesbury,  the  resistance 


324  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

and  carnage  came  to  an  end  ;  and  Edward,  having 
knighted  Warwick's  cousin,  George  Neville,  the  heir 
of  Lord  Abergavenny,  sheathed  his  bloody  sword, 
and  Gloucester  laid  aside  his  lance ;  and  the  king 
and  the  duke  rode  to  the  abbey  church  to  render 
thanks  to  GOD  for  giving  them  another  victory  over 
their  enemies. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE   VICTOR    AND   THE   VANQUISHED. 

WHILE  Edward  of  York  was  smiting  down  his 
foes  on  the  field  of  Tewkesbury,  and  the  blood  of 
the  Lancastrians  was  flowing  like  water,  a  chariot, 
guided  by  attendants  whose  looks  indicated  alarm 
and  dread,  might  have  been  observed  to  leave  the 
scene  of  carnage,  and  pass  hurriedly  through  the 
gates  of  the  park.  In  this  chariot  was  a  lady,  who 
appeared  almost  unconscious  of  what  was  passing, 
though  it  had  not  been  her  wont  to  faint  in  hours 
of  difficulty  and  danger.  The  lady  was  Margaret 
of  Anjou,  but  with  a  countenance  no  longer  ex- 
pressing those  fierce  and  terrible  emotions  which, 
after  Northampton,  and  Towton,  and  Hexham,  had 
urged  her  to  heroic  ventures  in  order  to  regain  for 
her  husband  the  crown  which  her  son  had  been 
born  to  inherit.  Pale,  ghastly,  and  rigid — more  like 
that  of  a  corpse  than  of  a  being  breathing  the  breath 
of  life — was  now  that  face,  in  which  the  friends  of 
the  Lancastrian  queen  had  in  such  seasons  often 
read,  as  in  a  book,  resolutions  of  stern  vengeance  to 
be  executed  on  her  foes. 

Fortune,  indeed,  had  at  length  subdued  the  high 


32C  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

spirit  of  Margaret  of  Anjou,  and  she  made  no  effort 
to  resist  her  fate.  When  witnessing  the  battle,  and 
becoming  aware  that  her  worst  anticipations  were 
being  realized,  the  unfortunate  queen  appeared  reek- 
loss  of  life,  and  abandoned  herself  to  despair.  Alarm- 
id,  however,  at  the  dangers  which  menaced  the  van- 
quished, Margaret's  attendants  placed  their  royal 
mistress  in  a  chariot,  conveyed  her  hastily  from  the 
field,  and  made  their  way  to  a  small  religious  house 
situated  near  the  left  bank  of  the  silver  Severn : 
there  she  found,  the  Princess  of  Wales  and  several 
Lancastrian  ladies,  who  had  followed  the  fortunes 
of  the  Red  Rose  and  shared  the  perils  of  their  kins- 
men. No  need  to  announce  to  them  that  all  was 
lost.  Even  if  the  disastrous  intelligence  had  not 
preceded  her  arrival,  they  would  have  read  in  Mar- 
garet's pale  face  and  corpse-like  aspect  the  ruin  of 
her  hopes  and  of  their  own. 

The  religious  house  in  which  the  queen  found  a 
temporary  resting-place  was  not  one  which  could 
save  her  from  the  grasp  of  the  conquering  foe.  But 
so  sudden  had  been  the  rout  of  one  party,  and  so 
signal  the  victory  of  the  other,  that  the  vanquished 
had  no  time  to  think  of  escaping  to  a  distance.  The 
abbey  church  was-  the  point  toward  which  most 
of  the  fugitives  directed  their  course,  and  within 
the  walls  of  that  edifice  Somerset,  the  Prior  of  St. 
John,  Sir  Henry  de  Roos,  Sir  Gervase  Clifton,  Sir 


EDWARD  OK  LANCASTER.  327 

Thomas  Tresham,  many  knights  and  esquires,  and 
a  crowd  of  humble  adherents  of  the  Red  Rose, 
sought  refuge  from  the  sword  of  the  conquerors. 
Unhappily  for  the  Lancastrians,  the  church  did  not 
possess  the  privilege  of  protecting  rebels,  and  Ed- 
ward was  in  no  humor  to  spare  men  who  had  shown 
themselves  his  bitter  foes.  Without  scruple,  the 
victor-king,  on  finding  they  had  taken  refuge  in  the 
abbey,  attempted  to  enter,  sword  in  hand ;  but  at 
this  point  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  a  pow- 
er before  which  kings  had  often  trembled.  At  the 
porch,  a  priest,  bearing  the  host,  interposed  between 
the  conqueror  and  his  destined  victims,  and  protest- 
ed, in  names  which  even  Edward  durst  not  disre- 
gard, against  the  sacred  precincts  being  made  the 
scene  of  bloodshed.  Baffled  of  his  prey,  Edward 
turned  his  thoughts  to  the  heir  of  Lancaster,  and 
issued  a  proclamation,  promising  a  reward  to  any 
who  should  produce  the  prince,  dead  or  alive,  and 
stating  that  in  such  a  case  the  life  of  the  royal  boy 
would  be  spared. 

Among  the  warriors  who  fought  at  Tewkesbury 
was  Sir  Richard  Croft,  a  Marchman  of  Wales. 
This  knight  was  husband  of  a  kinswoman  of  the 
Yorkist  princes,  and  had  figured  as  Governor  of 
Ludlow  when  Edward,  then  Earl  of  March,  was 
residing  during  boyhood  in  that  castle  with  his 
brother,  the  ill-fated  Rutland.  Passing,  after  the 


328  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

battle  of  Tewkesbury,  between  the  town  and  the 
field,  Croft  encountered  a  youthful  warrior,  whose 
elegance  arrested  his  attention,  and  whose  manner 
was  like  that  of  one  strange  to  the  place.  On  be- 
ing accosted,  the  youth,  in  an  accent  which  revealed 
a  foreign  education,  acknowledged  that  he  was  the 
heir  of  Lancaster ;  and,  on  being  assured  that  his 
life  was  in  no  hazard,  he  consented  to  accompany 
the  stalwart  Marchman  to  the  king. 

Toward  the  market-place,  a  triangular  space 
where  met  the  three  streets  that  gave  to  Tewkes- 
bury the  form  of  the  letter  Y,  Croft  conducted  his 
interesting  captive.  Tewkesbury  has  little  changed 
since  that  time  ;  but  the  old  Town  Hall,  which  then 
stood  in  the  market-place,  has  disappeared.  It 
was  to  a  house  in  the  neighborhood  of  this  build- 
ing, however,  that  the  king  had  repaired  after  the 
battle,  and  there,  surrounded  by  Clarence  and  Glou- 
cester, Hastings  and  Dorset,  the  captains  who  had 
led  his  host  to  victory,  sat  Edward  of  York  when 
Edward  of  Lancaster  was  brought  into  his  pres- 
ence. 

The  king  had  that  morning  gained  a  victory 
which  put  his  enemies  under  his  feet,  and  had 
since,  perhaps,  washed  down  his  cravings  for  re- 
venge with  draughts  of  that  cup  to  which  he  was 
certainly  too  much  addicted.  It  is  not  difficult  to 
believe  tho«e  historians  who  tell  that,  under  such 


0>  THE  VANQUISHED. 


THE  TWO  EDWARDS.  331 

circumstances,  satiated  with  carnage,  and  anxious 
for  peace  and  repose,  he  was  in  a  frame  of  mind 
the  reverse  of  unfavorable  to  his  captive,  nor  even 
to  credit  an  assertion  that  the  wish  of  Ed\vard  of 
York  was  to  treat  the  heir  of  the  fifth  Henry  as 
that  king  had  treated  the  last  chief  of  the  house  of 
Mortimer,  to  convert  the  prince  from  a  dangerous 
rival  into  a  sure  friend,  and  to  secure  his  grati- 
tude by  bestowing  upon  him  the  Duchy  of  Lancas- 
ter and  the  splendid  possessions  of  John  of  Gaunt. 
To  the  vanquished  prince,  therefore,  the  victor-king 
"  at  first  showed  no  uncourteous  countenance."  A 
minute's  conversation,  however,  dissipated  the  king's 
benevolent  intentions,  and  sealed  the  brave  prince's 
fate. 

"  What  brought  you  to  England,"  asked  Edward, 
"  and  how  durst  you  enter  into  this  our  realm  with 
banner  displayed  ?" 

"  To  recover  my  father's  rights,"  fearlessly  an- 
swered the  heir  of  Lancaster ;  and  then  asked, 
"  How  darest  thou,  who  art  his  subject,  so  pre- 
sumptuously display  thy  colors  against  thy  liege 
lord  ?" 

At  this  reply,  which  evinced  so  little  of  that  dis- 
cretion which  is  the  better  part  of  valor,  Edward's 
blood  boiled  ;  and,  burning  with  indignation,  he  sav- 
agely struck  the  unarmed  prince  in  the  mouth  with 
his  gauntlet.  Clarence  and  Gloucester  are  said  to 


332  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

have  then  rushed  upon  him  with  their  swords,  and 
the  king's  servants  to  have  drawn  him  into  another 
room  and  completed  the  murder.  In  the  house 
where,  according  to  tradition,  this  cruel  deed  was 
perpetrated,  marks  of  blood  were  long  visible  on 
the  oaken  floor ;  and  these  dark  stains  were  pointed 
out  as  memorials  of  the  cruel  murder  of  the  fifth 
Henry's  grandson,  by  turns  the  hope,  the  hero,  and 
the  victim  of  the  Lancastrian  cause. 

Having  imbrued  his  hands  in  the  blood  of  the 
only  rival  whom  he  could  deem  formidable,  and  too 
fearfully  avenged  the  murder  of  Kutland,  Edward 
appears  to  have  steeled  his  heart  to  feelings  of  mer- 
cy, and  to  have  determined  on  throwing  aside  all 
scruples  in  dealing  with  his  foes.  It  was  only  de- 
cent, however,  to  allow  Sunday  to  elapse  ere  pro- 
ceeding with  the  work  of  vengeance.  That  day  of 
devotion  and  rest  over,  the  Lancastrians  were  forci- 
bly taken  from  the  church.  Those  of  meaner  rank 
were  pardoned  ;  but  Somerset,  the  Prior  of  St.  John, 
Sir  Henry  de  Roos,  Sir  Gervase  Clifton,  Sir  Thomas 
Tresham,  John  Gower,  and  the  other  knights  and 
esquires,  were  brought  to  trial.  Gloucester  and 
John  Mowbray,  the  last  of  the  great  Dukes  of  Nor- 
folk, presided,  one  as  Constable  of  England,  the 
other  as  Earl-marshal ;  and  the  trial  being,  of 
course,  a  mere  form,  the  captives  were  condemned 
to  be  beheaded. 


QUEEN  MARGARET.  333 

On  Tuesday,  while  the  scaffold  was  being  erected 
in  the  market-place  of  Tewkesbury  for  the  execution 
of  those  who  had  risked  all  in  her  cause,  Margaret 
of  Anjou  was  discovered  in  the  religious  house  to 
which  she  had  been  conveyed  from  the  field  on 
which  her  last  hopes  were  wrecked.  The  Lancas- 
trian queen  was  brought  to  Edward  by  Sir  William 
Stanley,  still  zealous  on  the  Yorkist  side,  and  little 
dreaming  of  the  part  he  was  to  take  at  Bosworth  in 
rendering  the  Red  Rose  finally  triumphant.  Mar- 
garet's life  was  spared ;  but  her  high  spirit  was 
gone,  and,  on  being  informed  of  her  son's  death,  the 
unfortunate  princess  only  gave  utterance  to  words 
of  lamentation  and  woe.  Now  that  he  around 
whom  all  her  hopes  had  clustered  was  no  more, 
what  could  life  be  to  her?  what  the  rival  Roses? 
what  the  contentions  of  York  and  Lancaster?  Her 
ambition  was  buried  in  the  grave  of  her  son,  who 
had  been  her  consolation  and  her  hope. 

Sir  John  Fortescue  was  among  the  Lancastrians 
whom  the  victory  of  Tewkesbuiy  placed  in  Ed- 
ward's power;  and  the  great  lawyer  was  in  some 
danger  of  having  to  seal  with  his  blood  his  devotion 
to  the  Red  Rose.  Fortescue,  however,  had  no  long- 
ings for  a  crown  of  martyrdom ;  and  Edward,  luck- 
ily for  his  memory,  perceived  that  the  house  of  York 
would  lose  nothing  by  sparing  a  foe  so  venerable 
and  so  learned.  It  happened  that,  when  in  Scot- 


331  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

land,  Fortescue  had  produced  a  treatise  vindicating 
the  claims  of  the  house  of  Lancaster  to  the  English 
crown,  a.id  the  king  consented  to  pardon  the  ex- 
chief-justice  if  he  would  wi*ite  a  similar  treatise  in 
favor  of  the  claims  of  the  line  of  York.  The  con- 
dition was  hard ;  but  that  was  an  age  when,  to  bor- 
row old  Fuller's  phrase,  it  was  present  drowning 
not  to  swim  with  the  stream  ;  and  Fortescue,  con- 
senting to  the  terms,  applied  himself  to  the  arduous 
task.  The  difficulty  was  not  insuperable.  In  his 
argument  for  Lancaster  he  had  relied  much  on  the 
fact  of  Philippa  of  Clarence  having  never  been  ac- 
knowledged by  her  father.  In  his  argument  for 
York  he  showed  that  Philippa's  legitimacy  had 
been  proved  beyond  all  dispute.  On  the  produc- 
tion of  the  treatise  his  pardon  was  granted ;  and 
the  venerable  judge  retired  to  spend  the  remainder 
of  his  days  at  Ebrington,  an  estate  which  he  pos- 
sessed in  Gloucestershire. 

About  the  time  that  Fortescue  received  a  pardon, 
John  Morton,  who,  like  the  great  lawyer,  had  fought 
on  Towton  Field,  and  since  followed  the  ruined  for- 
tunes of  Lancaster,  expressed  his  readiness  to  make 
peace  with  the  Yorkist  king.  In  this  case  no  diffi- 
culty was  interposed.  Edward  perceived  that  the 
learning  and  intellect  of  the  "  late  parson  of  Blokes- 
worth"  might  be  of  great  service  to  the  government. 
Morton's  attainder  was  therefore  reversed  at  the 


EXECUTION  OF  THE  LANCASTRIANS.        335 

earliest  possible  period,  and  lie  soon  after  became 
Bishop  of  Ely. 

Meanwhile,  on  the  scaffold  erected  in  the  market- 
place of  Tewkesbmy,  the  Lancastrians  were  be- 
headed, the  Prior  of  St.  John  appearing  on  the 
mournful  occasion  in  the  long  black  robe  and  white 
cross  of  his  order.  No  quartering  nor  dismember- 
ing of  the  bodies,  however,  was  practiced,  nor  were 
the  heads  of  the  vanquished  set  up  in  public  places, 
as  after  Wakefield  and  Towton.  The  bodies  of 
those  who  died,  whether  on  the  field  or  the  scaf- 
fold, were  handed  over  to  their  friends  or  servants, 
who  interred  them  where  seemed  best.  Most  of 
them,  including  those  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  Dev- 
on, Somerset,  and  John  Beaufort,  were  laid  in  the 
abbey  church  ;  but  tho  corpse  of  Wenlock  was 
removed  elsewhere,  probably  to  be  buried  in  the 
Wenlock  Chapel,  which  he  had  built  at  Luton ; 
and  that  of  the  prior  was  consigned  to  the  care  of 
the  great  fraternity  of  religious  knights  at  Clerken- 
well,  of  which  he  had  been  the  head. 

After  wreaking  his  vengeance  upon  the  conquer- 
ed, Edward  moved  northward  to  complete  his  tri- 
umph, and  forgot  for  a  while  the  blood  he  had 
shed.  Years  after,  however,  when  laid  on  his 
death-bed,  the  memory  of  those  executions  appears 
to  have  lain  heavy  upon  his  conscience,  and  he 
mournfully  expressed  the  regret  which  they  caused 


336  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

him.  "  Such  things,  if  I  had  foreseen,"  said  he, 
"as  I  have  with  more  pain  than  pleasure  proved, 
by  GOD'S  Blessed  Lady  I  would  never  have  won 
the  courtesy  of  men's  knees  with  the  loss  of  so 
many  heads." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

WARWICK'S  VICE-ADMIRAL. 

ONE  day  in  May,  1471,  while  Edward  of  York 
was  at  Tewkesbury,  while  Henry  of  Windsor  was  a 
captive  in  the  Tower,  and  while  Elizabeth  Wood- 
ville  and  her  family  were  also  lodged  for  security  in 
the  metropolitan  fortress — thus  at  once  serving  the 
purposes  of  a  prison  and  a  palace — a  sudden  com- 
motion took  place  in  the  capital  of  England,  and 
consternation  appeared  on  the  face  of  every  citizen. 
The  alarm  was  by  no  means  causeless,  for  never  had 
the  wealth  of  London  looked  so  pale  since  threaten- 
ed by  the  Lancastrian  army  after  the  battle  on  Ber- 
nard's Heath. 

Among  the  English  patricians  who,  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  struggle  between  York  and  Lancaster, 
attached  themselves  to  the  fortunes  of  the  White 
Rose,  was  William  Neville,  son  of  Ralph,  Earl  of 
Westmoreland,  brother  of  Cicely,  Duchess  of  York, 
and  uncle  of  Richard,  Earl  of  Warwick.  This  York- 
ist warrior  derived  from  the  heiress  whom  he  had 
married  the  lordship  of  Falconbridge ;  and,  after 
leading  the  van  at  Towton,  he  was  rewarded  by 
Edward  with  the  earldom  of  Kent.  Dying  soon 
Y 


333  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

after,  he  was  laid  at  rest,  with  obsequies  befitting 
his  rank,  in  the  Priory  of  Gisborough,  and  his  lands 
were  inherited  by  his  three  daughters,  one  of  whom 
was  the  wife  of  Sir  John  Conyers. 

The  Earl  of  Kent  left  no  legitimate  son  to  inherit 
his  honors  ;  but  he  left  an  illegitimate  son,  named 
Thomas  Neville,  and  known,  after  the  fashion  of  the 
age,  as  "  The  Bastard  of  Falconbridge."  The  mis- 
fortune of  Falconbridge's  birth,  of  course,  prevented 
him  from  becoming  his  father's  heir ;  but,  being  "  a 
man  of  turbulent  spirit  and  formed  for  action,"  he 
had  no  idea  of  passing  his  life  in  obscurity.  His 
relationship  to  Warwick  was  not  distant ;  and  "  The 
Stout  Earl,"  duly  appreciating  the  courage  and  vigor 
of  his  illegitimate  kinsman,  nominated  him  vice-ad- 
miral, and  appointed  him  to  prevent  Edward  receiv- 
ing any  aid  from  the  Continent. 

While  Warwick  lived,  Falconbridge  appears  to 
have  executed  his  commission  on  the  narrow  seas 
with  fidelity  and  decorum.  But  when  Barnet  had 
been  fought,  and  the  vice-admiral  had  no  longer  the 
fear  of  the  king-maker  before  his  eyes,  the  narrow 
seas  saw  another  sight.  Throwing  off  all  restraint, 
he  took  openly  to  piracy,  and,  joined  by  some  mal- 
contents from  Calais,  went  so  desperately  to  work, 
that  in  a  marvelously  short  space  of  time  he  made 
his  name  terrible  to  skippers  and  traders.  Falcon- 
bridge  was  not,  however,  content  with  this  kind  of 


FALCONBRIDGE'S  AMBITION.  339 

fame.  He  had  always  believed  himself  destined  to 
perform  some  mighty  achievement,  and  he  now  found 
his  soul  swelling  with  an  irresistible  ambition  to  at- 
tempt the  restoration  of  Lancaster.  The  peril  at- 
tending such  an  exploit  might,  indeed,  have  daunted 
the  boldest  spirit ;  but  the  courage  of  the  Bastard 
was  superlative,  and  his  audacity  was  equal  to  his 
courage. 

The  enterprise  of  Falconbridge  Avas  not  at  first 
so  utterly  desperate  as  subsequent  events  made  it 
appear.  The  Lancastrians  were  not  yet  quite  sub- 
dued. Oxford  was  still  free  and  unsubdued  ;  Pem- 
broke was  in  arms  on  the  marches  of  Wales ;  and 
the  men  of  the  north,  on  whom  Edward's  hand  had 
been  so  heavy,  were  arming  to  take  revenge  on  their 
tyrant,  and  liberate  from  his  grasp  the  woman  who, 
with  her  smiles  and  tears,  had  in  other  days  tempt- 
ed them  to  do  battle  in  her  behalf.  If,  under  these 
circumstances,  Falconbridge  could  take  Heniy  out 
of  prison,  proclaim  the  monk-monarch  once  more  in 
London,  and  send  northward  the  news  of  a  Lancas- 
trian army  being  in  possession  of  the  capital,  he 
might  change  the  destiny  of  England,  and  enroll  his 
own  name  in  the  annals  of  fame. 

No  time  was  lost  in  maturing  the  project.  Land- 
ing at  Sandwich,  Falconbridge  was  admitted  into 
Canterbury,  and  prepared  to  march  upon  the  me- 
tropolis. His  adventure  soon  began  to  wear  a  hope- 


310  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

ful  aspect.  Indeed,  his  success  was  miraculous ; 
for,  as  he  made  his  way  through  Kent,  the  army, 
which  originally  consisted  of  the  desperadoes  of  the 
Cinque  Ports  and  the  riff-raff  of  Calais,  swelled  till 
it  numbered  some  seventeen  thousand  men.  Post- 
ing this  formidable  host  on  the  Surrey  side  of  the 
Thames,  and,  at  the  same  time,  causing  his  ships  to 
secure  the  river  above  St.  Katherine's,  Falconbridge 
demanded  access  to  the  city,  that  he  might  take 
Henry  out  of  the  Tower,  and  then  pass  onward  to 
encounter  the  usurper. 

The  mayor  and  aldermen,  however,  sorely  per- 
plexed, determined  to  stand  by  the  house  of  York, 
and  sent  post-haste  to  inform  the  king  that  London 
was  menaced  by  land  and  water,  and  to  implore 
him  to  hasten  to  the  relief  of  his  faithful  city.  Ed- 
ward, who,  to  awe  the  northern  insurgents,  had  pro- 
ceeded as  far  as  Coventry,  forthwith  sent  fifteen 
hundred  men  to  the  capital ;  and,  on  meeting  the 
Earl  of  Northumberland,  who  came  to  assure  him 
of  the  peace  of  the  north,  the  king  turned  his  face 
southward,  and  hurried  toward  London. 

Meanwhile  the  patience  of  Falconbridge  had  given 
way.  Enraged  at  the  refusal  of  the  Londoners  to 
admit  his  army,  and  anxious  to  gratify  the  appetite 
of  his  followers  for  plunder,  the  Bastard  expressed 
his  intention  of  passing  the  Thames  with  his  army 
at  Kingston,  destroying  Westminster,  and  then  tak- 


THE  STORMING  OF  LONDON.  341 

ing  revenge  on  the  citizens  of  London  for  keeping 
him  without  their  gates.  Finding,  however,  that 
the  wooden  bridge  at  Kingston  was  broken  down, 
and  all  the  places  of  passage  guarded,  he  drew  his 
forces  into  St.  George's  Fields,  and  from  that  point 
prepared  to  carry  London  by  assault. 

His  plan  thus  formed,  Falconbridge  commenced 
operations  with  characteristic  energy.  After  carry- 
ing his  ordnance  from  the  ships,  he  planted  guns  and 
stationed  archers  along  the  banks  of  the  Thames. 
At  first  considerable  execution  was  done.  Many 
houses  were  battered  down  by  the  ordnance,  and 
London  experienced  much  inconvenience  from  the 
flight  of  arrows ;  but  the  citizens  soon  showed  that 
this  was  a  game  at  which  two  parties  could  play. 
Having  brought  their  artillery  to  the  river-side,  and 
planted  it  over  against  that  of  their  assailants,  they 
returned  the  fire  with  an  effect  so  galling,  that  the 
adherents  of  the  vice-admiral  found  their  position 
intolerable,  and  retreated  in  confusion  from  their 
guns. 

Falconbridge  was  not  the  man  to  despair  early 
of  the  enterprise  upon  which  he  had  ventured.  See- 
ing his  men  fall  back  in  dismay,  he  resolved  on  prose- 
cuting the  assault  in  a  more  direct  way,  and  on  go- 
ing closely  to  work  with  his  antagonists.  He  re- 
solved, moreover,  on  making  a  great  attempt  at  Lon- 
don Bridge,  and,  at  the  same  time,  ordered  his  lieu- 


34-2  THE  WARS  OF  THK  ROSI> 

tenants — Spicing  and  Quintinc — to  embark  three 
thousand  men,  pass  the  Thames  in  ships,  and  force 
Aldgate  and  Bishopgate.  The  desperadoes,  cross- 
ing the  river,  acted  in  obedience  to  their  leader's 
orders,  and  London  was  at  once  assailed  suddenly 
at  three  separate  points.  But  the  Londoners  con- 
tinued obstinate.  Encouraged  by  the  news  of  Ed- 
ward's victory,  and  incited  to  valor  by  the  example 
of  Robert  Basset  and  Ralph  Jocelyne,  aldermen  of 
the  city,  they  faced  the  peril  with  fortitude,  and 
offered  so  desperate  a  defense,  that  seven  hundred 
of  the  assailants  were  slain.  Repulsed  on  all  points, 
and  despairing  of  success,  the  Bastard  was  fain  to 
beat  a  retreat. 

Baffled  in  his  efforts  to  take  the  capital  by  storm, 
Falconbridge  led  his  adherents  into  Kent,  and  en- 
camped on  Blackheath.  His  prospects  were  not 
now  encouraging ;  and  for  three  days  he  remained 
in  his  camp  without  any  new  exploits.  At  the  end 
of  that  time  he  learned  that  Edward  was  approach- 
ing, and  doubtless  felt  that  the  idea  of  trying  con- 
clusions at  the  head  of  a  mob  with  the  army  that 
had  conquered  at  Barnet  and  Tewkesbury  was  not 
to  be  entertained.  The  undisciplined  champions  of 
the  Red  Rose,  indeed,  dispersed  at  the  news  of  Ed- 
ward's coming,  as  pigeons  do  at  the  approach  of  a 
hawk;  and  their  adventurous  leader,  having  taken 
to  his  ships,  that  lay  at  Blackwall,  sailed  for  Sand- 
wich. 


DEATH  OF  THE  MONK-MONARCH.  343 

On  Tuesday,  the  21st  of  May,  seventeen  days  after 
Tewkesbury,  Edward  of  York,  at  the  head  of  thirty 
thousand  men,  entered  London  as  a  conqueror,  and 
in  his  train  to  the  capital  came  Margaret  of  Anjon 
as  a  captive.  The  broken-hearted  queen  found  her- 
self committed  to  the  Tower,  and  condemned  as  a 
prisoner  of  state  to  brood,  without  hope  and  with- 
out consolation,  over  irreparable  misfortunes  and 
intolerable  woes. 

On  Wednesday  morning — it  was  that  of  Ascen- 
sion Day — the  citizens  of  London,  who  some  hours 
earlier  had  been  thanked  for  their  loyalty  to  Ed- 
ward of  York,  were  informed  that  Henry  of  Lan- 
caster had  been  found  dead  in  the  Tower,  and  soon 
after  the  corpse  was  borne  bare-faced,  on  a  bier, 
through  Cheapside  to  St.  Paul's,  and  there  exposed 
to  the  public  view.  Notwithstanding  this  ceremony, 
rumors  were  current  that  the  dethroned  king  had 
met  with  foul  play.  People  naturally  supposed 
that  Falconbridge's  attempt  to  release  Henry  pre- 
cipitated this  sad  event ;  and  they  did  not  fail  to 
notice  that  on  the  morning  when  the  body  was  con- 
veyed to  St.  Paul's  the  king  and  Kichard  of  Glou- 
cester left  London.* 

*  "Of  the  death  of  this  prince,"  says  Fabyan,  "divers 
tales  were  told;  but  the  most  common  fame  went,  that  he 
was  sticked  with  a  dagger  by  the  hands  of  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester." 


344  THK   WARS   OF  THF.   KOSF.S 

A  resting-place  beside  his  hero-sire,  in  the  Chapel 
of  St.  E^dward,  might  have  been  allowed  to  the  only 
king  since  the  Conquest  who  had  emulated  the  Con- 
fessor's sanctity.  But  another  edifice  than  the  Ab- 
bey of  Westminster  was  selected  as  the  place  of 
sepulture ;  and,  on  the  evening  of  Ascension  Day, 
the  corpse,  having  been  placed  in  a  barge  guarded  by 
soldiers  from  Calais,  was  conveyed  up  the  Thames, 
and,  during  the  silence  of  midnight,  committed  to 
the  dust  in  the  Monastery  of  Chertsey.  It  was  not 
at  Chertsey,  however,  that  the  saintly  king  was  to 
rest.  When  years  had  passed  over,  and  Richard 
had  ascended  the  tin-one,  the  mortal  remains  of 
Henry  were  removed  from  Chertsey  to  Windsor, 
and  interred  with  much  pomp  in  the  south  side  of 
the  choir  in  St.  George's  Chapel,  there  to  rest,  it 
was  hoped,  till  that  great  day,  for  the  coming  of 
which  he  had  religiously  prepared  by  the  devotion 
of  a  life. 

After  consigning  Margaret  to  the  Tower  and 
Henry  to  the  tomb,  Edward  led  his  army  from 
London,  marched  to  Canterbury,  and  prepared  to 
inflict  severe  punishment  on  Falconbridge.  Mean- 
while, as  vice-admiral,  Falconbridge  had  taken  pos- 
session of  Sandwich,  where  forty-seven  ships  obeyed 
his  command.  With  this  naval  force,  and  the  town 
fortified  in  such  a  way  as  to  withstand  a  siege,  the 
Bastard  prepared  for  resistance ;  but,  on  learning 


END  OF  FALCON  BRIDGE.  345 

that  the  royal  array  had  reached  Canterbury,  his 
heart  began  to  fail,  and  he  determined,  if  possible, 
to  obtain  a  pardon.  With  this  object,  Falcon- 
bridge  dispatched  a  messenger  to  Edward  ;  and  the 
king  was,  doubtless,  glad  enough  to  get  so  bold  a 
rebel  quietly  into  his  power.  At  all  events,  he  de- 
termined on  deluding  the  turbulent  vice-admiral 
with  assurances  of  safety  and  promises  of  favor ; 
and  Gloucester  was  empowered  to  negotiate  a 
treaty. 

Matters  at  first  went  smoothly.  The  duke  rode 
to  Sandwich  to  assure  his  illegitimate  cousin  of  the 
king's  full  forgiveness,  and  about  the  26th  of  May 
Falconbridge  made  his  submission,  and  promised  to 
be  a  faithful  subject.  Edward  then  honored  him 
with  knighthood,  and  confirmed  him  in  the  post  of 
vice-admiral.  At  the  same  time,  the  king  granted 
a  full  pardon  to  the  Bastard's  adherents ;  and  they, 
relying  on  the  royal  word,  surrendered  the  town 
of  Sandwich,  with  the  castle,  and  the  ships  that 
lay  in  the  port.  '•  But  how  this  composition  Avas 
observed,"  says  Baker,  "  may  be  imagined,  when 
Falconbridge,  who  was  comprised  in  the  pardon, 
v,  :is  afterward  taken  and  executed  at  Southampton. 
Spicing  and  Quintine,  the  captains  that  assailed  Aid- 
pi  te  and  Bbhopgate,  and  were  in  Sandwich  Castle 
;it  the  surrender  thereof,  were  presently  beheaded  at 
Canterbury,  and  their  heads  placed  on  poles  in  the 


346  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

gates ;  and,  by  a  commission  of  Oyer  and  Terminer, 
many,  both  in  Essex  and  Kent,  were  arraigned  and 
condemned  for  this  rebellion." 

About  Michaelmas,  Falconbridge  expiated  his  ill- 
fated  ambition  ;  and  the  citizens  had  the  satisfaction, 
in  autumn,  of  seeing  his  head  exposed  to  warn  mal- 
contents to  beware  of  Edward  of  York.  "  Thomas 
Falconbridge,  his  head,"  says  Paston,  "  was  yester- 
day set  upon  London  Bridge,  looking  Kentward, 
and  men  say  that  his  brother  was  sore  hurt,  and 
escaped  to  sanctuary  to  Beverley."  So  ended  the 
ambitious  attempt  of  Warwick's  vice-admiral  to 
play  the  part  of  king-maker. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

ESCAPE   OF   THE   TCDORS. 

WHEN  the  spirit  of  the  Lancastrians  had  been 
broken  on  the  fields  of  Barnet  and  Tewkesbury,  and 
the  violent  deaths — if  such  they  were — of  the  monk- 
monarch  and  his  gallant  son  had  left  the  adherents 
of  the  Red  Rose  without  a  prince  to  rally  round,  the 
house  of  York  seemed  to  be  established  forever. 

That  branch  of  the  Plantagenets  which  owed  its 
origin  to  John  of  Gaunt  was  not,  indeed,  without 
an  heir.  The  King  of  Portugal,  the  grandson  of 
Philippa,  eldest  daughter  of  John  and  Blanche  of 
Lancaster,  was  the  personage  with  whom  that  honor 
rested ;  but  Alphonso,  albeit  a  knight-errant  in  man- 
hood's prime,  not  being  yet  turned  of  forty,  and  rich 
in  gold  brought  from  Guinea,  was  not  so  utterly  in- 
discreet as  to  waste  his  energy  and  croisadoes  on  an 
enterprise  in  which  Warwick,  the  flower  of  English 
patricians  and  the  favorite  of  the  English  people, 
had  so  signally  failed.  Moreover,  about  this  time, 
Alphonso  was  all  anxiety  to  wed  Joan,  the  youth- 
ful daughter  of  the  last  King  of  Castile,  and  make  a 
Quixotic  attempt,  as  husband  of  that  princess,  to 
wrest  the  Spanish  crown  from  Ferdinand  and  Isa- 


313  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

bella.  Thus  occupied  with  projects  of  love  and 
war,  the  King  of  Portugal  does  not  appear  to  have 
put  forward  any  claims  as  heir  of  elolm  of  Gaunt, 
nor,  perhaps,  did  the  English  nation  ever  seriously 
consider  his  claims. 

The  extinction  of  Henry  of  Bolingbroke's  pos- 
terity left  the  Red  Rose  party  without  having  at  its 
head  a  king  whose  name  might  serve  as  a  rallying 
cry.  But  the  adherents  of  the  Lancastrian  cause, 
however  dispirited,  were  not  utterly  subdued.  They 
still  cherished  vague  hopes,  and  pointed  to  chiefs  of 
high  name  ;  for  John  de  Vcre,  Earl  of  Oxford,  Hen- 
ry Holland,  Duke  of  Exeter,  and  Jasper  Tudor,  Earl 
of  Pembroke,  still  lived  ;  and  while  these  noblemen 
— the  first  so  noble,  the  second  so  loyal,  and  the 
third  so  wary — were  free,  there  was  still  a  prospect 
of  revenge  on  the  usurper.  The  fact,  however,  was, 
that  the  Lancastrian  lords  were  in  a  situation  far 
from  enviable,  and  might  have  been  forgiven  had 
they  cherished  no  aspiration  more  lofty  than  that 
of  getting  safely  away  from  the  country,  and  beyond 
the  reach  of  Edward's  vengeance. 

When  intelligence  reached  Jasper  Tudor"  that 
Margaret  of  Anjou  and  her  captains  had  been  totally 
routed,  far  from  cherishing  any  such  delusions  as 
imposed  upon  the  rude  intellect  of  Falconbridge,  he 
forthwith  allowed  his  forces  to  disperse,  and,  making 
for  the  valley  of  the  Wye,  took  refuge  in  the  strong- 
hold of  Chepstow. 


A  CELT  AND  A  MARCHMAN.  349 

Situated  at  the  mouth  of  the  most  beautiful  of 
English  rivers,  Chepstow  is  still  an  interesting  ruin. 
At  that  time  it  was  a  magnificent  castle,  stretching 
along  a  precipitous  cliff,  consisting  of  four  courts 
and  a  central  building,  and  covering  an  area  of  three 
acres.  To  this  fortress  Jasper,  in  the  day  of  per- 
plexity, retired  to  reflect  on  the  past  and  prepare  for 
the  future. 

"While  at  Chepstow  Jasper  had  a  narrow  escape. 
Edward  was  naturally  most  anxious  to  destroy  the 
Lancastrians  as  a  party,  and  eager,  therefore,  to  get 
so  zealous  an  adherent  of  the  Red  Eose  into  his 
power.  With  a  view  of  entrapping  his  old  adver- 
sary, he  employed  Roger  Vaughan,  one  of  a  clan 
who,  like  the  Crofts,  were  ancient  retainers  of  the 
house  of  Mortimer,  to  repair  to  Chepstow.  The 
contest  between  the  Celt  and  the  Marchman  was 
brief.  Jasper  was  not  to  be  outwitted.  He  pene- 
trated the  secret  of  Vaughan's  mission,  caused  him 
to  be  seized,  and,  without  formality,  had  his  head 
struck  off. 

Having  taken  this  strong  measure,  and  thereby 
added  to  his  danger  in  the  event  of  capture,  Jasper 
proceeded  to  Pembroke.  At  that  town  the  out- 
lawed earl  was  exposed  to  new  dangers.  Pursued 
to  Pembroke  by  a  Welsh  warrior  named  Morgan  ap 
Thomas,  he  was  besieged  in  the  town  ;  but  relief 
came  from  a  quarter  that  could  hardly  have  been 


350  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

expected.  David  ap  Thomas,  who  was  Morgan's 
brother,  but  attached  to  the  Red  Rose,  rushing  to 
Jasper's  assistance,  succeeded  in  raising  the  siege, 
and  the  Welsh  earl  was  freed  for  the  time  from 
pressing  peril.  But,  having  lost  all  feeling  of  se- 
curity, and  every  hope  of  holding  out  against  Ed- 
ward, he  committed  the  defense  of  Pembroke  to  Sir 
John  Scudamore,  took  his  brother's  son  Henry,  the 
young  Earl  of  Richmond,  under  his  wing,  embarked 
with  the  boy  at  Tenby,  and  once  more  as  an  outlaw 
and  fugitive  sailed  for  the  Continent. 

The  intention  of  Jasper  and  his  nephew  was  to 
seek  protection  at  the  court  of  Louis,  and  they  steer- 
ed their  course  toward  the  coast  of  France.  But 
fortune  proved  unfavorable  to  this  design.  Forever 
the  elements  fought  against  the  Lancastrians.  En- 
countering contrary  winds,  the  Tudors  were  driven 
on  the  coast  of  Brittany,  and,  being  compelled  to 
put  into  a  port  belonging  to  the  duke,  they  could 
not  avoid  paying  their  respects  to  that  magnate. 
The  duke  received  them  with  courtesy,  and  treated 
them  with  hospitality,  and  so  far  all  went  pleasant- 
ly. But  when  the  Tudors  prepared  to  pursue  their 
way  to  France  they  were  given  to  understand  that 
they  were  not  at  liberty  to  proceed. 

The  two  earls  were  somewhat  disconcerted  on 
comprehending  their  actual  position.  They  made 
the  best  of  circumstances,  however ;  and,  indeed,  all 


THE  WELSH  EARLS  IN  BRITTANY.  351 

things  considered,  had  not  much  reason  to  complain. 
The  town  of  Vannes  was  assigned  them  as  a  resi- 
dence, and  they  were  treated  with  the  respect  deem- 
ed due  to  their  rank.  Except  being  narrowly  watch- 
ed, their  position  was  not  uncomfortable. 

Intelligence  of  the  Tudors  being  at  Vannes  was 
not  long  confined  to  Brittany.  The  news  soon 
reached  both  Paris  and  London ;  and  while  the 
French  king  claimed  them  as  friends,  the  English 
king  demanded  them  as  rebels  and  traitors.  The 
duke,  however,  firmly  adhered  to  the  resolution  to 
keep  them  to  himself;  and  Edward  was  fain  to  ap- 
pear content,  and  pay  a  yearly  sum  for  their  sup- 
port. The  duke,  on  his  part,  gave  assurances  that 
they  should  have  no  opportunity  of  causing  disturb- 
ance to  the  English  government. 

When  a  few  years  passed  over,  circumstances  had 
rendered  young  Heniy  Tudor  a  more  important 
personage,  and  Edward  made  a  great  effort  to  ob- 
taiu  their  extradition.  To  accomplish  this  object, 
he  sent  an  embassy  to  Brittany  to  invite  Henry  to 
England,  promising  him  the  hand  of  the  Princess 
Elizabeth.  The  Duke  of  Brittany  was  induced  to 
consent,  and  Henry  repaired  to  St.  Malo  to  embark. 
But  Peter  de  Landois,  the  duke's  chief  minister, 
who  at  that  time  pretended  a  high  regard  for  the 
Tudors,  declared  that  Edward's  offer  was  a  snare, 
and  pointed  out  the  impolicy  of  crediting  Edward's 


352  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

profession  of  friendship.  The  duke  was  convinced ; 
and  Richmond's  embarkation  having  been  delayed 
by  a  fever,  the  result  of  anxiety,  he  returned  to 
Vannes. 

And  at  Vannes,  as  guest  or  captive  of  Brittany — 
he  hardly  knew  which — Henry  Tudor  was  destined 
to  remain,  till  one  day  the  Bishop  of  Ely  and  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  conspiring  in  Brecknock  Cas- 
tle, nominated  him — a  man  described  by  Comines  as 
'"  without  power,  without  money,  without  hereditary 
right,  and  without  any  reputation" — as  a  candidate 
for  the  proudest  of  European  thrones. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

ADVENTURES    OF    JOHX   DE    VERB. 

OXE  autumn  day,  about  six  months  after  the  fall 
of  Warwick  and  Montagu,  a  little  fleet  approached 
the  coast  of  Cornwall,  and  anchored  in  the  green 
waters  of  Mount's  Bay.  The  monks  and  fighting 
men  who  tenanted  the  fortified  monastery  that 
crowned  the  summit  of  St.  Michael's  Mount  might 
have  deemed  the  appearance  of  the  ships  slightly 
suspicious;  but  the  aspect  and  attire  of  those  who 
landed  from  their  decks  forbade  uncharitable  sur- 
mises. Indeed,  they  were  in  the  garb  of  pilgrims, 
and  represented  themselves  as  men  of  rank,  who,  at 
the  suggestion  of  their  confessors,  had  come  from 
remote  parts  of  the  kingdom  to  perform  vows,  make 
orisons,  and  offer  oblations  at  the  shrine  of  St. 
Michael. 

It  was  the  last  day  of  September — the  festival  of 
St.  Keyne,  a  virgin  princess  of  rare  sanctity,  who 
had,  in  the  fifth  century,  for  pious  purposes,  visited 
the  Mount ;  and,  on  such  an  occasion,  the  monks 
were  not  likely  to  be  in  any  very  skeptical  mood. 
Proud,  in  all  probability,  of  their  saint's  reputation, 
and  not  doubting  his  power  to  inspire  zeal,  they 
2 


354  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

opened  their  gates  and  admitted  the  pilgrims.  No 
sooner  were  they  admitted,  however,  than  the  scene 
changed.  Each  man,  throwing  aside  his  pilgrim's 
habit,  stood  before  the  astonished  monks  a  warrior 
in  mail,  with  a  dagger  in  his  girdle,  a  sword  by  his 
side,  and  in  his  eye  the  determination  to  use  those 
weapons  in  the  event  of  resistance.  At  the  head  of 
this  band  was  a  man  of  thirty  or  thereabouts,  who 
announced  that  he  was  John  De  Vere,  Earl  of  Ox- 
ford, and  that  he  had  come  to  take  possession  of  St. 
Michael's  Mount  in  the  name  of  Lancaster. 

Between  his  escape  from  Barnet  and  his  arrival 
at  St.  Michael's  Mount  the  chief  of  the  DC  ATeres  had 
passed  through  some  remarkable  adventures.  When 
Oxford,  bewildered  by  the  consequences  of  his  silver 
star  being  mistaken  for  Edward's  sun,  and  thrown 
off  his  guard  by  the  shouts  of  "  Treason !"  rode 
through  the  mist  and  fled  from  the  field,  he  directed 
his  course  northward  with  the  intention  of  seeking 
refuge  in  Scotland ;  but,  after  riding  some  distance, 
and  taking  time  to  reflect,  the  earl  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  journey  was  too  long  to  be  accom- 
plished with  safety,  and,  turning  aside,  he  rode,  in 
the  company  of  Lord  Beaumont,  toward  the  Welsh 
Marches,  with  the  hope  of  joining  Jasper  Tudor. 
Whether  or  not  he  reached  Wales  is  not  quite  clear ; 
but  it  appears  from  a  letter  written  in  April  to  his 
countess,  Warwick's  sister,  that,  after  Queen  Mar- 


OXFORD  AFTER  BARNET.  355 

garet  had  landed  and  her  friends  had  resolved  on 
another  campaign,  Oxford  recovered  the  spirit  he 
had  displayed  at  Coventry,  and  indulged  in  the 
hope  of  a  Lancastrian  triumph. 

"  Right  reverend  and  worshipful  lady,"  writes  the 
earl  to  his  countess,  "  I  recommend  me  to  you,  let- 
ting you  weet  that  I  am  in  gi-eat  heaviness  at  the 
making  of  this  letter ;  but,  thanked  be  God,  I  am 
escaped  myself,  and  suddenly  departed  from  my  men; 
for  I  understand  my  chaplain  would  have  betrayed 
me  .... 

"  Ye  shall  give  credence  to  the  bringer  of  this 
letter,  and  I  beseech  you  to  reward  him  to  his  costs ; 
for  I  am  not  in  power  at  the  making  of  this  letter 
to  give  him  but  as  I  was  put  in  trust  by  favor  of 
strange  people.  Also,  ye  shall  send  me,  in  all 
haste,  all  the  ready  money  ye  can  make,  and  as 
many  of  my  men  as  can  come  well  horsed,  and  that 
they  come  in  divers  parcels.  Also,  that  my  best 
horses  be  sent  with  my  steel  saddles,  and  bid  the 
yeoman  of  the  horse  cover  them  with  leather. 

"  Also,  ye  shall  send  to  my  mother  and  let  her 
weet  of  this  letter,  and  pray  her  of  her  blessing,  and 
bid  her  send  me  my  casket,  by  this  token,  that  she 
hath  the  key  thereof,  but  it  is  broken.  And  ye  shall 
send  to  the  Prior  of  Thetford,  and  bid  him  send  me 
the  sum  of  gold  that  he  said  I  should  have  ;  also  say 
to  him,  by  this  token,  that  I  showed  him  the  first 
Priw  Seal  . 


356  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

"Also,  ye  shall  be  of  good  cheer,  and  take  no 
thought ;  for  I  shall  bring  my  purpose  about  now, 
by  the  grace  of  GOD,  who  have  you  in  His  keep- 
ing." 

Oxford  soon  learned  the  truth  of  the  homely 
proverb  that  there  is  much  between  the  cup  and 
the  lip ;  and  when  Tewkesbury  extinguished  his 
hopes  of  victory,  the  earl,  attended  by  Lord  Beau- 
mont, betook  himself  to  France.  His  reception  in 
that  country  not  being  such  as  to  tempt  a  prolonged 
residence,  he  fitted  out  a  fleet,  and  for  a  while  made 
the  ocean  his  home.  Indeed,  it  would  seem  that, 
when  exiled  from  his  kindred  and  his  castles,  the 
heir  of  the  De  Veres  reverted  to  the  habits  of  his 
Scandinavian  ancestors,  and  that,  during  the  sum- 
mer of  1471,  the  thirteenth  of  the  proud  earls  of 
Oxford  roved  the  narrow  seas  as  a  pirate.  About 
the  close  of  September,  however,  Oxford,  having,  in 
the  words  of  Speede,  "  gotten  stores  of  provisions  by 
the  strong  hand  at  sea,"  landed  in  Cornwall ;  and 
with  a  body  of  men,  whom  some  chroniclers  repre- 
sent as  well-nigh  four  hundred,  and  others  as  K-— 
than  a  sixth  of  that  number,  appeared  suddenly  at 
St.  Michael's  Mount. 

The  monks  of  St.  Michael  and  the  soldiers  Avho 
garrisoned  the  Mount  were  in  no  condition  to  rc.-is; 
a  body  of  men  so  determined.  They  therefore  yield- 
ed without  a  struggle ;  and  Oxford  set  himeelf  to 


SEIZURE  OF  ST.  MICHAEL'S  MOUNT.         357 

the  task  of  repairing  the  fortifications,  getting  men 
and  ammunition  to  defend  the  Mount  in  the  event 
of  a  siege,  and  procuring  provisions  to  subsist  them 
in  case  of  the  operations  being  prolonged.  Men  and 
supplies  were  both  forthcoming,  for  the  earl  hap- 
pened to  be  grandson  of  an  heiress  of  Sir  Richard 
Sergeaux  of  Colquite,  and  their  regard  for  the  mem- 
ory of  that  lady  made  the  Cornishmen  most  eager 
to  prove  their  devotion  to  his  service.  When,  there- 
fore, Oxford  or  his  men  descended  into  the  villages 
adjacent  to  the  Mount,  they  were  received  with  en- 
thusiasm, and,  in  the  words  of  the  chronicler,  "  had 
good  cheer  of  the  inhabitants." 

Oxford's  enterprise  seemed  to  have  prospered ; 
but  the  period  was  the  reverse  of  favorable  for  a 
Lancastrian  lord  being  left  in  undisturbed  possession 
of  a  strong-hold.  No  sooner  did  Edward  hear  of 
the  exploit,  than  he  issued  a  proclamation  branding 
De  Vcre  and  his  adherents  as  traitors ;  and,  at  the 
same  time,  he  ordered  Sir  John  Arundel,  Sheriff  of 
Cornwall,  to  retake  St.  Michael's  Mount  without 
delay.  Arundel  raised  an  army  in  the  locality,  ad- 
vanced to  the  Mount,  and  sent  a  trumpeter  to  sum- 
mon Oxford  to  surrender  to  the  king's  mercy,  and 
thus  save  the  effusion  of  Christian  blood.  The  earl 
was  uninfluenced  by  the  ceremony.  He  resolutely 
refused  to  listen  to  the  conditions.  "  Rather  than 
yield  on  such  terms,"  said  he,  "  I  and  those  with  me 
will  lose  our  lives." 


353  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

The  sheriff,  seeing  no  hope  of  a  capitulation,  pro- 
ceeded to  storm  the  Mount.  Oxford,  however,  far 
from  being  daunted,  defended  the  strong-hold  with 
such  energy  that,  after  a  struggle,  the  besiegers  were 
beaten  at  all  points  and  repulsed  with  loss.  Nor 
was  this  the  worst ;  for  the  garrison,  sallying  from 
the  outer  gate,  pursued  the  assailants  down  to  the 
sands.  There  Arundel  was  slain  with  many  of  his 
soldiers ;  and  the  survivors — most  of  whom  were 
newly  levied — fled  in  dismay.* 

Arundel  was  buried  in  the  Church  of  the  Mount ; 
and  Edward,  on  hearing  of  the  sheriff's  death,  ap- 
pointed a  gentleman  named  Fortescue  as  successor 
in  the  office.  Having  been  ordered  to  prosecute  the 
siege,  Fortescue  commenced  operations.  But  the 
new  sheriff  was  little  more  successful  than  his  pred- 
ecessor. Moreover,  the  Mount,  which  was  con- 
nected with  the  main  land  by  an  isthmus,  dry  at 
low  water,  but  at  other  times  overflowed,  gained  the 
reputation  of  being  impregnable  ;  and  the  king,  who 
ascribed  the  want  of  success  to  the  want  of  loyal 
zeal,  and  described  Cornwall  as  "  the  back  door  of 

*  "  Sir  John  Arundel  had  long  before  been  told,  by  some 
fortune-teller,  he  should  be  slain  on  the  sands ;  wherefore, 
to  avoid  that  destiny,  he  removed  from  Effbrd,  near  Strat- 
ton-on-the-Sands,  where  he  dwelt,  to  Trerice,  far  off  from 
the  sea,  yet  by  this  misfortune  fulfilled  the  prediction  in  an- 
other place." — Poltchele'x  History  of  Cornwall. 


SURRENDER  OF  THE  MOUNT.  359 

rebellion,"  instructed  Fortescue  to  hold  a  parley 
with  Oxford  in  order  to  ascertain  the  earl's  desires 
and  expectations. 

Fortescue  acted  according  to  his  instructions,  and 
demanded  on  what  conditions  the  garrison  would 
surrender. 

"If,"  said  the  earl,  "the  king  will  grant  myself 
and  my  adherents  our  lives,  our  liberties,  and  our 
estates,  then  we  will  yield." 

••  And  otherwise  ?"  said  the  sheriff. 

"  Why,  in  that  event,"  exclaimed  Oxford,  with 
calm  desperation,  K  we  will  fight  it  out  to  the  last 
man." 

The  earl's  answer  was  conveyed  to  the  king  ;  and 
on  Edward's  assuring  the  garrison  of  a  free  pardon, 
under  the  great  seal  of  England,  Oxford  surrendered 
St.  Michael's  Mount.  Indeed,  he  had  been  extreme- 
ly perplexed  ;  for  Fortescue,  it  appears,  had  already 
opened  communications  with  the  garrison,  and  con- 
veyed them  such  promises  on  the  king's  part  that 
Oxford  was  under  the  necessity  of  surrendering  him- 
self to  avoid  the  humiliation  of  being  delivered  by 
his  own  men  into  the  hands  of  the  besieger?.  This 
was  all  the  more  provoking  that  he  had  sufficient 
provisions  to  last  till  midsummer  ;  but  there  was 
no  resisting  fate,  and,  about  the  middle  of  February, 
Fortescue  entered  the  Mount. 

Oxford,  having  been  carried  to  London  with  two 


360  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

of  his  brothers  and  Lord  Beaumont,  was  tried  and 
attainted  ;  and,  notwithstanding  the  promise  of  par- 
don, the  fate  of  the  chief  of  the  De  Veres  now  ap- 
peared to  be  sealed.  Fortunately  for  the  Lancas- 
trian earl,  Edward's  conscience  was  at  that  time 
troubled  with  some  qualms,  and  his  heart  daunted 
by  some  signs  Avhich  he  regarded  as  ominous  of  evil. 
Not  being  in  a  savage  humor,  he  shrunk  from  hav- 
ing more  De  Vere  blood  on  his  hands,  and  the  earl 
escaped  execution.  However,  he  was  sent  captive 
to  Picardy. 

When  Oxford  was  sent  to  a  foreign  prison,  his 
youthful  countess  was  left  in  poverty.  As  the  sis- 
ter of  Warwick  and  the  wife  of  Oxford,  the  noble 
lady  was  regarded  by  Edward  with  peculiar  aver- 
sion ;  and,  both  as  sister  and  wife,  she  returned  the 
king's  antipathy  with  interest.  Thus  it  happened 
that,  notwithstanding  the  near  relationship  in  which 
she  stood  to  the  house  of  York,  no  provision  out  of 
her  husband's  revenues  was  made  for  her  mainte- 
nance during  his  incarceration.  The  countess  had 
all  the  Neville  pride  and  determination.  Cast  down 
from  patrician  grandeur,  and  expelled  from  Castle 
Hedlingham  and  other  feudal  seats,  where  she  had 
maintained  state  as  the  wife  of  England's  proudest 
Norman  earl,  she  made  a  noble  effort  to  earn  daily 
bread,  and  contrived  to  make  a  living  by  the  exer- 
cise of  her  skill  in  .  needle-work.  The  struggle  to 


OXFORD  AT  HAMMES.  aei 

keep  the  wolf  from  the  door  was  doubtless  hard  to 
the  daughter  of  Salisbury  and  the  spouse  of  Oxfoi'd  ; 
but,  from  being  compelled  to  rely  on  her  industry, 
Margaret  Neville  escaped  the  irksome  necessity  of 
suppressing  the  indignation  she  felt  against  her  hus- 
band's foes,  and  she  retained  the  privilege  of  de- 
nouncing the  king,  whom  her  imagination  painted  as 
the  falsest  of  tyrants. 

Meanwhile,  Oxford  was, in  defiance  of  the  king's 
promise,  conveyed  to  Hammes,  and  committed  as  a 
pi-isoner  to  the  Castle.  The  earl  was  not  a  man  to 
relish  the  idea  of  incarceration,  and  he  resolved  on 
taking  an  unceremonious  leave  of  his  jailers.  With 
this  view,  he  leaped  from  the  walls  into  the  ditch, 
and  endeavored  to  escape.  The  vigilance  of  his 
warders,  however,  rendered  this  attempt  futile,  and 
John  de  Vere  was  conveyed  back  to  the  Castle,  a 
prisoner  without  prospect  of  release. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

A    DUKE    IN    RAGS. 

AMOKG  the  Lancastrian  chiefs  who  survived  the 
two  fields  on  which  the  Red  Rose  was  trodden  un- 
der the  hoofs  of  King  Edward's  charger,  none  was 
destined  to  a  more  wretched  fate  than  the  conquer- 
or's own  brother-in-law,  Hemy,  Duke  of  Exeter. 
The  career  of  this  chief  of  the  family  of  Holland, 
from  his  cradle  to  his  grave,  forms  a  most  melan- 
choly chapter  in  the  annals  of  the  period. 

The  Hollands  were  somewhat  inferior  in  origin 
to  most  of  the  great  barons  who  fought  in  the  Ware 
of  the  Roses.  The  founder  of  the  house  was  a  poor 
knight,  who,  from  being  secretary  to  an  Earl  of 
Lancaster,  rose  to  some  post  of  importance.  His 
grandson,  happening  to  hold  the  office  of  steward 
of  the  household  to  an  Earl  of  Salisbury,  contrived 
to  espouse  Joan  Plantagenet,  daughter  of  the  Earl 
of  Kent ;  and  when  that  lady,  known  as  ';  The  Fair 
Maid  of  Kent,"  after  figuring  as  a  widow,  became 
wife  of  "  The  Black  Prince,"  the  fortunes  of  the 
Hollands  rose  rapidly.  One  flourished  as  Earl  of 
Kt'iit  ;  another  was  created  Duke  of  Surrey;  and 
a  third,  having  been  gifted  with  the  earldom  of 


THE  HOLLANDS.  363 

Huntingdon,  became  Duke  of  Exeter  and  husband 
of  Elizabeth  of  Lancaster,  John  of  Gaunt's  second 
daughter. 

Notwithstanding  his  Lancastrian  alliance,  the  first 
Duke  of  Exeter  remained  faithful  to  Richard  in 
1399,  and,  consequently,  lost  his  head  soon  after 
that  sovereign's  deposition.  The  son  of  the  decap- 
itated nobleman,  however,  being  nephew  of  the  new 
king,  was  soon  received  into  favor  by  Henry  of  Lan- 
caster, and  appointed  Constable  of  the  Tower  and 
Lord  High  Admiral  of  England.  At  an  early  age 
he  married  a  daughter  of  Edmund,  Earl  Stafford ; 
and  on  the  27th  of  June,  1430,  their  only  son  was 
born  in  the  Tower  of  London.  On  the  same  day 
he  was  carried  to  Cold  Harbor  in  the  arms  of  the 
Countess  Marshal,  who  conveyed  him  in  a  barge  to 
Westminster,  where,  in  St.  Stephen's  Chapel,  he  was 
baptized  by  the  name  of  Henry. 

Fortune  seemed  to  smile  on  the  heir  of  the  Hol- 
lands. Could  the  future  have  been  foreseen,  how- 
ever, no  young  peasant,  laboring  in  the  fields  and 
struggling  out  of  serfdom,  would  have  envied  the 
infant  destined  to  a  career  so  miserable  and  a  catas- 
ti'ophe  so  melancholy.  The  life  of  Henry  Holland 
opened  brightly  enough.  At  the  age  of  seventeen 
he  succeeded  his  father  as  third  Duke  of  Exeter 
and  Lord  High  Admiral  of  England,  and  espoused 
Anne  Plantagenet,  eldest  daughter  of  the  Duke  of 


^64  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

York ;  and,  at  the  time  when  the  Roses  were  pluck- 
ed, he  appears  to  have  favored  the  Yorkist  cause. 
A  change,  however,  came  over  his  fortunes  and  his 
political  sentiments. 

Exeter  had,  in  fact,  chosen  his  party  without  due 
consideration,  and  crc  long  he  saw  reason  to  change 
sides.  Indeed,  his  place  in  Parliaments  and  councils 
must  have  reminded  the  young  duke  that,  through 
his  grandmother,  he  was  of  the  blood  of  Lancaster ; 
and  to  a  man  of  his  rank  flatterers  would  hardly  be 
wanting  to  suggest  the  probability  of  the  course  of 
events  bringing  the  regal  sceptre  to  his  hand.  On 
arriving  at  years  of  discretion,  Exeter  changed  the 
pale  for  the  purple  rose,  and,  after  the  first  battle  of 
St.  Albans,  he  was  under  the  necessity  of  flying  to 
the  sanctuary  of  Westminster.  From  that  place  of 
security  he  was  taken  on  some  pretext,  and  sent  as  a 
prisoner  to  Pontefract  Castle. 

When  the  political  wind  changed,  Exeter  recov- 
ered his  liberty  ;  and,  as  time  passed  over,  he  fought 
for  Margaret  of  Anjou  in  the  battles  of  Wakefield 
and  Towton.  After  the  rout  of  the  Red  Rose  army 
on  Palm  Sunday,  1401,  he  fled  with  Henry  into 
Scotland ;  but  in  the  autumn  of  that  year  he  was 
tempting  fortune  in  Wales,  and,  in  company  with 
Jasper  Tudor,  stood  embattled  at  Tutehill,  near 
Carnarvon,  against  King  Edward's  forces.  The 
Yorkists  proving  victorious,  Exeter  and  his  com- 


EXETER  IN  ADVERSITY.  365 

rade  in  arms  were  fain  to  make  for  the  mountains, 
leaving  the  Welsh  Lancastrians  no  resource  but  to 
submit. 

Exeter's  biography  now  becomes  obscure.  The 
unfortunate  duke  can  be  traced,  however,  lurking 
on  the  Scottish  frontier,  fighting  at  Hexham,  flying 
to  a  Northumbrian  village,  finding  Margaret  of  Anjou 
in  the  outlaw's  cave,  accompanying  the  Lancastrian 
queen  into  exile,  and  wandering  as  a  broken  man  on 
the  Continent,  while  his  duchess,  in  no  degree  in- 
clined to  share  such  fortunes,  enjoyed  the  estate  of 
her  banished  lord,  lived  at  her  brother's  court,  kept 
well  with  Elizabeth  Woodville,  and  ministered  to 
that  lady's  maternal  ambition  by  pledging  the  hand 
of  Exeter's  heiress  to  the  young  Marquis  of  Dorset. 
When,  however,  Warwick  chased  Edward  of  York 
from  the  kingdom,  Exeter  appeared  once  more  in 
England,  and  figured  as  one  of  the  Lancastrian 
leaders  at  Barnet. 

The  disgrace  of  abandoning  "  The  Stout  Earl" 
on  the  field  where  he  was  laid  low,  Exeter  did  not 
share.  As  early  as  seven  in  the  morning  of  that 
Easter  Sunday  he  was  struck  by  an  arrow,  and  left 
for  dead  on  the  field.  After  remaining  for  nine 
hours,  he  was  discovered  still  alive,  and  carried  to 
the  house  of  one  of  his  servants  named  Ruthland. 
A  surgeon  having  been  found  to  dress  the  duke's 
wound,  he  was  in  such  a  degree  restored  as  to  be 
conveyed  to  the  sanctuary  of  Westminster. 


366  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

At  this  point  mystery  again  settles  over  Exeter's 
history.  It  appears,  however,  that  the  ill-fated  duke 
escaped  to  the  Continent,  and  that  the  duchess  seized 
the  opportunity  to  break  the  last  link  that  bound  her 
to  a  husband  so  unfortunate.  In  November,  1472, 
nearly  two  years  after  the  battle  of  Barnet,  the 
Plantagenet  lady,  at  her  own  suit,  procured  a  di- 
vorce, and  soon  after  married  Sir  Thomas  St.  Leger, 
Knight  of  the  Body  to  King  Edward.  The  du< 
survived  this  event  for  three  years.  According  to 
Sandford,  she  breathed  her  last  in  1475  ;  and  "  St. 
Leger  surviving  her,"  says  Dugdale,  "in  21  Edward 
IV.  founded  a  perpetual  chantry  of  two  priests  to 
celebrate  divine  service  daily  within  the  Chapel 
of  St.  George  in  Windsor  Castle."  Exeter's  only 
daughter,  who  had  been  betrothed  to  the  Marquis 
of  Dorset,  died  before  her  mother,  and  Elizabeth 
Woodville  secured  the  heiress  of  Bonville  as  bride 
for  her  son. 

Meanwhile  the  plight  of  Exeter  became  deplora- 
ble, and  in  Flanders  he  was  reduced  to  absolute 
beggary.  Comines  relates  that,  on  one  occasion,  he 
saw  the  impoverished  magnate  running  after  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy,  and  begging  bread  for  GOD'* 
sake.  In  the  hapless  mendicant,  in  rags  and  mis- 
ery, Burgundy  did  not  recognize  the  once  proud 
chief  of  the  house  of  Holland — his  cousin  by  blood 
and  his  brother-in-law  by  marriage.  On  being  aft- 


EXETER  FOUND  DEAD.  367 

erward  informed,  however,  that  the  ragged  mendi- 
cant was  the  banished  Duke  of  Exeter,  great-grand- 
son of  John  of  Gaunt,  the  king  of  Portugal's  kins- 
man and  his  own,  and  formerly  Lord  High  Admiral 
of  England,  owner  of  broad  baronies,  and  husband 
of  Anne  Plantagenet,  Charles  the  Rash  was  touched, 
and  induced  to  bestow  on  Exeter  a  pension  to  save 
him  from  farther  degradation. 

Dugdale  presumes  that  this  scene  occurred  "  after 
Barnet  Field ;"  and,  if  so,  Burgundy's  bounty  was 
not  long  enjoyed  by  the  unfortunate  recipient. 
Sometime  in  1474  Exeter's  earthly  troubles  ended. 
His  body  was  found  floating  in  the  sea  between 
Dover  and  Calais,  but  how  he  came  by  his  death 
was  never  ascertained. 

"  In  this  year,"  says  Fabyan,  "  was  the  Duke  of 
Exeter  found  dead  in  the  sea,  between  Dover  and 
Calais,  but  how  he  was  drowned  the  certainty  is  not 
known." 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

LOUIS   1>E    BRUGES   AT   WINDSOR. 

IN  the  autumn  of  1472,  while  Oxford  was  being 
secured  in  the  Castle  of  Hammes.  and  Edward  was 
striving  to  get  Pembroke  and  Richmond  into  his 
power,  a  guest,  whom  the  king  delighted  to  honor, 
appeared  in  England.  This  was  Louis  de  Bruges, 
who  had  proved  so  true  a  friend  in  the  hour  of 
need  ;  and  right  glad  was  Edward  of  York  to  wel- 
come the  Lord  of  Grauthuse  to  the  regal  castle 
which  still  stands,  in  the  nineteenth  century,  a  mon- 
ument of  the  Plantagenets'  pride  in  peace  and  prow- 
ess in  war. 

An  account  of  the  visit  of  the  Burgundian  noble- 
man, written  at  the  time,  has  fortunately  been  pre- 
served ;  and,  as  has  been  remarked,  "  far  more  lux- 
urious and  more  splendid  than  might  be  deemed  by 
those  who  read  but  the  general  histories  of  that 
sanguinary  time,  or  the  inventories  of  furniture  in 
the  houses  even  of  the  great  barons,  was  the  ac- 
commodation which  Edward  afforded  to  his  gur- 

On  reaching  Windsor,  where,  by-the-by,  Marga- 
ret of  Anjou  was  then  a  prisoner  of  state,  Louis  de 
Bruges  was  received  by  Lord  Hastings,  who,  as  the 


EDWARD'S  HOSPITALITY.  369 

king's  chamberlain,  led  the  noble  guest  to  apart- 
ments in  the  far  side  of  the  quadrangle  of  the  castle, 
which  were  richly  hung  with  arras  of  cloth  of  gold. 
Edward  received  Louis  with  every  demonstration  of 
affection,  and  presented  him  to  his  spouse ;  and  Eliz- 
abeth Woodville  was,  of  course,  all  courtesy  to  her 
husband's  preserver.  After  the  ceremony  of  recep- 
tion was  over,  the  king  signified  that  Hastings  should 
conduct  the  Lord  of  Grauthuse  to  his  chamber, 
where  supper  was  ready ;  and  Louis  found  that  ev- 
ery preparation  had  been  made  for  entertaining  him 
luxuriously. 

The  apartments  appropriated  to  the  Burgundian 
are  described  as  having  been  fitted  up  in  a  way 
which  must  have  impressed  the  eye  even  of  a  man 
accustomed  to  the  magnificence  of  Dijon.  The  walls 
were  hung  with  white  silk  and  linen  cloth,  and  the 
floor  covered  with  rich  carpets.  The  bed  was  of 
down,  the  sheets  were  of  Rennes  cloth,  and  the 
counterpane,  the  tester,  and  the  ceiler  were  of  cloth 
of  gold  and  furred  with  ermine.  In  the  second 
chamber  was  another  state  bed,  and  a  couch  with 
hangings  like  a  tent.  In  the  third,  covered  with 
white  cloth,  was  a  bath,  which  in  that  age  was  in 
daily  use. 

After  partaking  of  supper  in  the  apartments  dedi- 
cated to  his  service,  Louis  was  conducted  to   the 
queen's  withdrawing  room,  where  he  found  Eliza- 
A  A 


370  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

beth  and  her  ladies  amusing  themselves  with  differ- 
ent games  ;  some  playing  at  marteaux  with  balls 
like  marbles,  and  others  at  closheys,  or  nine-pins, 
made  of  ivory. 

Next  day,  after  matin*.  Edward  took  his  guest  to 
the  Chapel  of  St.  George,  where  they  heard  mass 
most  melodiously  sung.  When  mass  had  been  per- 
formed, the  king  presented  his  guest  with  a  cup  of 
gold,  garnished  with  pearl,  in  the  middle  of  which 
Avas  a  large  piece  of  unicorn's  horn,  and  on  the  cover 
a,  great  sapphire.  Then  the  king  led  Louis  to  the 
quadrangle  of  the  castle,  and  there  the  Prince  of 
Wales,  still  in  his  second  year,  appeared,  to  bid  the 
Lord  of  Grauthuse  welcome  to  England.  Having 
introduced  his  heir  to  the  Burgundian  lord,  Edward 
conducted  his  guest  into  the  little  park,  where  they 
had  much  sport.  The  king  made  Louis  ride  his 
own  horse  ;  and  of  the  animal,  which  is  described 
as  "  a  right  fair  hobby,"  he  graciously  made  a  pres- 
ent to  his  guest. 

That  day  the  king  dined  at  the  lodge  in  Windsor 
Park  ;  and,  the  ddnner.  over,  he  showed  Louis  his 
gardens  and  vineyard  df  pleasure.  The  queen  or- 
dered the  .evening  banquet  in  her  own  apartments  ; 
and,  wheir  supper  was  ovef ,  the  Princess  Elizabeth 
danced  with  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  Never  did 
guest  receive  more  flattering  attentions  than  Louis. 
The  king  and  courtiers  did  not  take  their  leave  of 


MARKS  OF  GRATITUDE.  371 

him  for  the  night  till  they  had  escorted  him  to  his 
apartments  ;  and  soon  after,  Avhen  he  had  been  in 
his  bath  and  was  preparing  to  betake  himself  to  re- 
pose, there  were  sent  him  by  the  queen's  orders 
'•'green  ginger,  and  divers  sirups,  and  hippocras." 
Next  morning  Louis  breakfasted  with  the  king, 
and  then,  leaving  Windsor,  returned  to  Westminster. 
At  Westminster  new  honors  awaited  the  Lord  of 
Grauthuse.  On  St.  Edward's  Day — exactly  nine- 
teen years  after  the  birth  of  the  ill-fated  Edward  of 
Lancaster — the  king  created  the  Burgundian  noble- 
man Earl  of  Winchester,  and,  with  many  compli- 
mentary phrases,  gave  him  the  arms  of  the  family 
of  De  Quency,  which  had  enjoyed  that  earldom  at 
the  time  of  the  Barons'  Wars.  After  having  been 
granted  a  more  substantial  mark  of  Edward's  grati- 
tude in  the  shape  of  a  pension,  Louis  de  Bruges  took 
his  leave  and  returned  to  his  own  country. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

THE   TREATY    OF    PICQUIGXV. 

WHEN  Edward's  victories  on  Gladsmuir  Heath 
and  the  banks  of  the  Severn  had  rendered  the  Lan- 
castrians in  England  utterly  incapable  of  making 
head  against  the  house  of  York,  the  martial  king 
naturally  turned  his  thoughts  to  Continental  tri- 
umphs, and  prepared  to  avenge  himself  on  Louis  of 
France  for  the  encouragement  which  that  monarch 
had  openly  and  secretly  given  to  the  adherents  of 
the  Red  Rose. 

Apart  from  the  friendship  shown  by  the  crafty 
king  to  Warwick  and  Lancaster,  Edward  had  a 
strong  reason  for  making  war  on  Louis.  It  wa.s 
well  known  that  Louis  had  not  only  sneered  at  his 
royalty,  but  questioned  his  legitimacy,  calling  him 
"  the  son  of  the  archer,"  and  keeping  alive  a  story 
which  some  envious  Lancastrians  had  invented  about 
an  intrigue  of  the  Duchess  of  York,  the  proudest  of 
English  matrons,  with  Blackburn  of  Middleham. 
Besides,  Edward  was  not  insensible  to  the  glory  and 
popularity  to  be  acquired  by  emulating  the  martial 
deeds  of  his  ancestors  on  Continental  soil.  Accord- 
ingly, in  the  year  1475,  after  concluding  an  alliance 


A  STARTLING  DEMAND.  373 

offensive  and  defensive  with  the  Duke  of  Burgundy, 
and  receiving  promises  of  co-operation  from  the  Con- 
stable St.  Pol,  Edward  dispatched  Garter-King-at- 
Arms  to  Louis,  demanding  the  immediate  surrender 
of  the  kingdom  of  France. 

However  startled  Louis  might  be  at  the  message, 
he  did  not  lose  his  presence  of  mind.  After  reading 
Edward's  letter  and  reflecting,  he  sent  for  the  Garter- 
King,  brought  all  his  statecraft  into  play,  expressed 
his  high  respect  for  the  English  king,  deplored  that 
such  a  prince  should  be  deluded  by  so  treacherous 
an  ally  as  Burgundy,  and  persuaded  the  herald  to 
urge  his  master  to  settle  the  matter  amicably. 
Moreover,  he  promised  Garter  a  thousand  crowns 
when  peace  should  be  concluded ;  and,  meanwhile, 
presented  him  with  three  hundred  crowns.  Garter- 
King-at-Arms  was  touched  with  the  munificence  of 
Louis,  and  promised  his  good  offices ;  nay,  more, 
significantly  advised  the  King  of  France  to  open 
negotiations  with  the  English  ministers,  whom  he 
knew  to  be  averse  to  a  war. 

Meanwhile,  Edward  had  set  himself  to  the  task 
of  providing  money  and  men  for  the  expedition  he 
meditated ;  and  as  the  project  of  a  war  with  France 
was  sure  to  make  Parliament  open  the  purse  of  the 
nation,  a  considerable  sum  was  voted.  To  Edward, 
however,  the  amount  appeared  insufficient  for  his 
purpose,  and  he  resolved  upon  a  system  of  exaction 


374  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

practiced  in  time  of  Richard  the  Second,  and  known 
as  "a  benevolence."  But  money  paid  in  this  way 
was  supposed  to  be  a  voluntary  gift,  and  not  likely 
to  come  in  large  sums  unless  asked  for.  Edward, 
therefore,  sent  for  the  wealthiest  citizens  of  London, 
talked  to  them  frankly,  and  pressed  them  to  con- 
tribute liberally ;  and  he  besides  secured  the  influ- 
ence of  the  city  dames,  who  exerted  themselves  to 
the  utmost  on  his  behalf.  A  story  is  told  of  a 
widow,  who  was  not  fond  of  parting  with  money, 
bringing  twenty  pounds.  "  By  GOD'S  Blessed  Lady," 
?aid  Edward,  who  was  present,  "you  shall  have  a 
king's  kiss  for  that  money,"  and  suited  the  action 
to  the  word.  "  Sire,"  said  she,  delighted  with  this 
familiarity,  "the  honor  is  worth  more  money  than 
I  have  given :"  and  the  widow  doubled  her  con- 
tribution. 

Large  sums  having  been  obtained,  a  gallant  army 
was  soon  raised.  In  fact,  the  sons  of  the  men  of 
Agincourt  did  not  relish  the  idea  of  beating  swords 
into  plowshares  ;  and  to  the  royal  standard  came 
nearly  twenty  thousand  men,  headed  by  the  Dukes 
of  Clarence  and  Gloucester,  the  Marquis  of  Dorset, 
the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  Lord  Stanley,  Lord 
Hastings,  and  other  men  of  rank.  With  these, 
and  attended  by  Lord-chancellor  Kotheram  and  the 
Bishop  of  Ely,  Edward  sailed  from  Sandwich,  and, 
toward  the  close  of  June,  landed  at  Calais,  which  he 


EDWARD  IN  FRANCE.  375 

had  last  visited  under  the  protection  of  Warwick, 
between  their  flight  from  Ludlow  and  their  victory 
at  Northampton. 

High  hopes  were  at  first  entertained  by  the  in- 
vaders ;  but  it  soon  became  apparent  that  they  were 
not  destined  to  add  a  Cressy  or  an  Agincourt  to 
England's  list  of  victories.  At  the  very  beginning, 
their  enterprise  was  ruined  by  the  constable's  insin- 
cerity and  Burgundy's  rashness.  The  former  failed 
to  open  the  gates  as  he  had  promised  ;  and  the  lat- 
ter, instead  of  joining  Edward  with  a  large  army, 
exhausted  his  strength  before  Neuss  in  a  battle  with 
the  Swiss. 

Louis  began  to  breathe  freely  ;  and  while  the  En- 
glish army  lay  inactive  at  Peronne,  French  gold  cir- 
culated freely  among  the  leaders.  A  general  desire 
for  peace  was,  of  course,  the  result ;  and,  ere  long, 
Edward  caught  the  infection.  French  embassadors 
soon  appeared,  and  offered  to  pay  any  thing  in  rea- 
son. A  sum  of  seventy-five  thousand  crowns  down, 
an  annuity  of  fifty  thousand  crowns,  and  the  dau- 
phin as  a  husband  for  his  eldest  daughter — such 
were  the  terms  submitted  on  the  part  of  Louis  for 
the  acceptance  of  the  English  king.  Edward  could 
not  resist  such  offers ;  and,  after  negotiations  had 
gone  on  for  some  time,  the  kings  agreed  to  a  con- 
ference. 

Picquigny,  three   leagues  from   Amiens,  on   the 


37G  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

road  from  Calais  to  Paris,  was  selected  as  the  scene, 
and  the  29th  of  August  appointed  as  the  time  for 
this  memorable  interview.  Every  precaution  was 
taken  to  prevent  mischief;  and  on  the  middle  of  the 
bridge  which  spanned  the  Somrnc,  at.  Picquigny, 
were  erected  two  sheds.  These  fronted  each  other, 
but  were  divided  from  top  to  bottom  by  a  trellis  of 
wood-work.  The  space  between  the  gratings  was 
no  wider  than  to  admit  a  man's  arm ;  and  the  En- 
glish king  was  to  occupy  one  side  of  the  barricade, 
while  the  French  king  occupied  the  other. 

It  appears  that  Richard  of  Gloucester  considered 
the  terms  of  treaty  degrading,  and  declined  to  appear 
at  the  conference.  Nevertheless,  on  the  appointed 
morning,  Edward,  attended  by  Clarence,  Northum- 
berland, Hastings,  and  others,  proceeded  to  the 
Bridge  of  Picquigny,  and  approached  the  grating. 
On  the  other  side.  Louis  had  already  arrived,  with 
the  Duke  of  Bourbon,  the  Cardinal  Bourbon,  about 
ten  other  persons  of  the  highest  rank  in  France, 
and  Philip  de  Comines,  who  had  recently  exchanged 
the  service  of  Burgundy  for  that  of  Louis. 

One  glance  at  Edward  as  he  advanced  along  the 
causeway,  with  his  tall,  graceful  form  arrayed  in 
clothr  of  gold,  and  wearing  on  his  regal  head  a  vel- 
vet cap  with  a  large  flew  de  Us  formed  of  precious 
stones,  must  have  convinced  so  acute  an  observer  as 
Louis  that  the  story  about  the  archer  of  Middleham 


A  CONFERENCE  ON   A   BRIDGE.  377 

was  an  invention  of  the  enemy;  and  as  the  King  of 
England  took  off  his  cap,  and  bowed  with  grace,  the 
French  monarch,  who  had  been  leaning  against  the 
barrier,  made  a  respectful  obeisance,  and  exclaimed, 
"  Cousin,  you  are  right  welcome.  There  is  no  per- 
son living  I  have  been  so  ambitious  of  seeing."  Ed- 
ward, in  good  French,  returned  the  compliment;  and 
the  two  kings  proceeded  to  business. 

Notwithstanding  a  heavy  fall  of  rain,Avhich  "came 
on  to  the  great  vexation  of  the  French  lords,  who 
had  dressed  themselves  and  their  horses  in  their 
richest  habiliments,  in  honor  of  King  Edward,"  the 
conference  proved  interesting.  The  Bishop  of  Ely, 
in  a  set  harangue,  quoted  a  prophecy  of  Merlin  fore- 
shadowing the  august  meeting ;  and  a  missal  and 
crucifix  having  been  produced,  the  kings,  each  plac- 
ing one  hand  on  the  book  and  another  on  the  cruci- 
fix, swore  to  observe  religiously  the  terms  of  the 
treaty. 

The  solemn  ceremony  of  swearing  over,  Louis  be- 
came jocose,  assured  Edward  he  should  be  happy  to 
see  him  in  Paris,  and  promised  to  assign  him,  as 
confessor,  the  Cardinal  Bourbon,  who  would,  doubt- 
less, readily  grant  absolution  for  any  love  affairs. 
Edward  seemed  to  relish  the  prospect ;  and,  know- 
ing the  cardinal's  morals  to  be  lax  as  his  own,  took 
the  opportunity  of  displaying  his  wit  in  reply.  Aft- 
er this  the  lords  were  sent  to  a  little  distance ;  and 


378  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

the  kings,  having  spoken  some  words  in  private, 
shook  hands  through  the  grating,  and  parted — Louis 
riding  to  Amiens,  and  Edward  to  the  English  camp. 

No  sooner  had  Louis  left  the  bridge  of  Picquigny 
than  he  repented  of  the  invitation  he  had  given  Ed- 
ward to  visit  the  French  capital.  "  Certes,"  said 
the  crafty  monarch  to  Comines,  as  they  rode  to- 
ward Amiens,  "  our  brother  of  England  is  a  fine 
king,  and  a  warm  admirer  of  the  ladies.  At  Paris 
he  might  chance  to  find  some  dame  so  much  to  his 
taste  as  to  tempt  him  to  return.  His  predecessors 
have  been  too  often  both  in  Paris  and  Normandy 
already,  and  I  have  no  great  affection  for  his  com- 
pany on  this  side  of  the  Channel." 

At  Amiens,  on  the  same  evening,  when  Louis  was 
sitting  down  to  supper,  an  amusing  scene  occurred. 
Sir  John  Howard,  now  a  baron,  and  Sir  John  Chey- 
ney,  Edward's  Master  of  the  Horse,  had  been  ap- 
pointed to  accompany  Louis  to  Paris ;  and  Howard, 
whose  vanity  made  him,  as  usual,  ridiculous,  whis- 
pered to  the  French  king  that  it  would  go  hard  but 
he  would  persuade  Edward  to  come  to  Paris  a  while 
and  be  merry.  Louis  allowed  this  to  pass  without 
returning  any  direct  answer  ;  but  afterward  he  took 
occasion  to  say  that  the  war  with  Burgundy  would 
render  his  presence  absolutely  necessary  in  another 
part  of  France. 

But,  whatever  his  apprehensions,  Louis  was  not 


EDWARD'S  RETURN.  379 

doomed  to  have  his  formidable  contemporary  as  a 
foe  or  a  guest  on  the  banks  of  the  Seine.  Edward, 
doubtless  delighted  with  the  prospect  of  indulging  in 
hunting,  carousing,  and  love-making  at  Shene  or 
Windsor,  recalled,  without  delay,  his  soldiers  from 
Peronne,  Abbeville,  and  other  places,  and,  escorted 
by  the  Bishop  of  Evreux,  marched  back  to  Calais. 
Thence  he  embarked  for  England,  but  not  without 
being  unpleasantly  reminded  that  he  hardly  came 
off  with  royal  honors.  In  fact,  the  Constable  of 
St.  Pol,  apparently  enraged  that  events  had  taken 
such  a  turn  as  to  profit  him  nothing,  wrote  Edward 
a  furious  letter,  calling  him  "  a  coward,  a  pitiful 
and  poor  sovereign,  for  having  made  a  treaty  with  a 
king  who  would  not  keep  one  of  his  promises."* 

The  Plantagenet  sent  St.  Pol's  epistle  to  the  King 
of  France,  and  digested  the  affront ;  and  while  Louis, 
who  had  already  been  suspected  of  poisoning  his 
brother,  Charles  de  Valois,  got  rid  of  another  ene- 
my by  beheading  the  constable,  Edward  returned  to 
England  to  expend  the  money  he  had  received  as  a 
bribe  on  those  pleasures  destined  to  destroy  his 
health  and  obscure  his  intellect.  Nor  did  his  nobles 
come  home  empty-handed.  Dorset,  Hastings,  and 

*  "The  most  honorable  part  of  Louis's  treaty  with  Ed- 
ward was  the  stipulation  for  the  liberty  of  Queen  Margaret. 
Louis  paid  fifty  thousand  crowns  for  her  ran- 
som."— Hume's  History. 


390  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Howard,  Sir  John  Cheyney  and  Sir  Thomas  St. 
Leger,  had  become  pensioners  of  the  French  king ; 
and  the  people  were  left  to  complain  that  the  expe- 
dition for  which  they  had  paid  so  dearly  had  ended 
in  infamy.  Perhaps,  under  such  circumstances,  they 
did  drop  a  tear  over  the  grave  of  "  The  Stout  Earl," 
who,  had  he  been  alive,  would  not  have  stood  quiet- 
ly by  while  a  king  of  England  extracted  taxes  from 
English  subjects  to  commence  an  unnecessary  war, 
and  took  bribes  from  a  French  monarch  to  conclude 
a  humiliating  peace. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

A   DOMESTIC    TRAGEDY. 

AT  the  opening  of  the  year  1477,  Charles  the 
Rash,  Duke  of  Burgundy,  fell  at  Nanci,  before  the 
two-handed  swords  of  the  Swiss  mountaineers,  leav- 
ing, by  his  first  wife,  Isabel  of  Bourbon,  a  daughter, 
Mary,  the  heiress  of  his  dominions.  About  the  same 
time,  George,  Duke  of  Clarence,  and  Anthony  Wood- 
ville,  Earl  Rivers,  happened  to  become  widowers. 
The  duke  and  the  earl,  in  other  days  rivals  for  the 
hand  of  the  heiress  of  Lord  Scales,  immediately  en- 
tered the  arena  as  candidates  for  that  of  Mary  of 
Burgundy,  and  their  rivalry  produced  one  of  the 
darkest  domestic  tragedies  recorded  in  the  Piantag- 
enet  annals. 

Clarence  appears  to  have  been  the  first  to  urge 
his  claims.  Almost  ere  the  dust  had  time  to  gather 
on  the  coffin  of  his  departed  wife  in  the  Abbey  of 
Tewkesbury,  the  bereaved  husband  of  Isabel  Neville 
applied  to  his  sister,  the  widow  of  Burgundy,  to  for- 
ward his  suit  with  her  step-daughter.  The  widowed 
duchess  was  the  reverse  of  unfavorable  to  a  matri- 
monial project  so  likely  to  advance  the  fortunes  of 
her  family,  and  the  heart  of  Clarence  for  a  moment 


382  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

glowed  with  anticipations  of  a  great  matrimonial 
success. 

But  the  hopes  which  Clarence  cherished  of  a 
marriage  with  the  heiress  of  Burgundy  were  rudely 
dispelled.  The  duke,  whose  shallow  brain  was 
muddled  with  Malmsey,  soon  found  that  he  was  no 
match  for  veteran  courtiers.  Experienced  intrigu- 
ers, the  Woodvilles  were  prompt  in  their  measures 
to  defeat  any  project  that  jarred  with  their  interests  ; 
and  Elizabeth  instilled  into  her  husband's  mind  such 
suspicions  as  to  Clarence's  intentions,  that  Edward 
not  only  refused  to  hear  of  an  alliance  that  "  might 
enable  Clarence  to  employ  the  power  of  Burgundy 
to  win  the  crown,"  but  even  let  down  his  dignity  so 
far  as  to  propose  a  marriage  between  Anthony,  Earl 
Rivers,  and  the  daughter  of  Charles  the  Rash.  The 
court  of  Burgundy,  treating  the  proposal  with  the 
disdain  it  deserved,  gave  the  heiress  to  the  Emperor 
Maximilian  ;  and  the  Woodvilles,  finding  their  pre- 
sumption checked,  and  resolved  to  console  themselves 
by  making  Clarence  a  victim,  bent  all  their  energies 
to  effect  his  ruin. 

Circumstances  were  unfavorable  to  Clarence  ;  for, 
since  the  duke's  confederacy  with  Warwick,  no  love 
had  existed  between  him  and  the  king.  Edward 
deemed  that  he  owed  his  brother  an  injury ;  and 
that,  at  least,  was  a  kind  of  debt  which  Edward  of 
York  Avas  never  sorry  to  have  an  opportunity  of 


CLARENCE  AND  THE  WOODVILLES.         333 

paying.  The  king's  dislike  was  judiciously  humor- 
ed by  the  queen's  kindred ;  and  a  prophecy,  that 
the  crown  should  be  seized  and  the  royal  children 
murdered  by  one,  the  first  letter  of  whose  name  was 
G,  took* possession  of  his  imagination.  A  fair  ex- 
cuse only  was  wanting  to  get  rid  of  Clarence,  and  a 
pretext  was  ere  long  found. 

Among  the  Anglo-Norman  families  who  during 
the  fifteenth  centuiy  maintained  territorial  state  in 
that  county  which  had  come  with  an  heiress  of  the 
Beauchamps  to  Richard  Neville,  and  with  the  eldest 
daughter  of  the  king-maker  to  the  royal  duke  by 
whom  he  wras  betrayed,  few  were  of  higher  consid- 
eration than  the  Burdets.  One  of  the  Burdets  had 
accompanied  the  Conqueror  to  England  ;  another 
had  sat  as  member  for  Warwickshire  in  the  Par- 
liament of  the  second  Edward;  and  a  third,  Sir 
Nicholas,  had  fought  with  high  distinction  in  the 
wars  carried  on  by  the  Duke  of  York  in  France. 
Falling  at  Pontoise  on  that  day  when  King  Charles 
of  France  stormed  the  town,  Nicholas  left  a  son, 
Thomas,  who  resided  at  Arrow,  the  seat  of  his 
family,  and  held  an  office  in  Clarence's  household. 

Burdet  had  figured  as  a  Yorkist  and  fought  for 
the  White  Rose.  Being  a  follower  of  Clarence, 
however,  he  was  regarded  with  some  degree  of  sus- 
picion ;  and,  having  domestic  troubles,  his  temper 
was  probably  too  much  the  worse  for  the  wear  to 


384  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

admit  of  his  being  suspected  without  manifesting 
impatience.  An  accident,  according  to  chroniclers, 
occurred,  which  exasperated  him  to  language  so  in- 
discreet as  to  cause  his  own  death  and  that  of  his 
patron. 

Burdet  had,  among  the  deer  in  his  park  at  Arrow, 
a  white  buck,  of  which  he  was  exceedingly  proud. 
This  buck  was  destined  to  be  the  cause  of  much 
mischief;  for  one  day,  when  Burdet  was  from  home, 
the  king,  making  a  progress  through  Warwickshire, 
went  to  Arrow,  and  entered  the  park  to  divert  him- 
self with  hunting.  Unfortunately,  Edward  killed 
the  favorite  buck  of  all  others ;  and  Burdet,  being 
informed  on  his  return  of  what  had  happened,  was 
enraged  beyond  measure.  Indeed,  it  was  said  that 
the  worthy  squire,  regarding  the  whole  affair  as  a 
premeditated  insult,  lost  his  patience  so  completely 
as  to  express  a  wish  "  that  the  buck's  horns  had 
been  in  the  king's  belly." 

But,  however  that  may  have  been,  there  lived  at 
that  time,  under  Clarence's  protection,  an  ecclesi- 
astic named  John  Stacey,  famed  for  his  learning 
and  skill  in  astrology.  Having  been  denounced  as 
a  necromancer,  and  accuse']  of  exercising  his  un- 
lawful art  for  the  destruction  of  Richard,  Lord 
Beauchamp,  Stacey  was  put  to  the  rack  and  tor- 
tured into  naming  Thomas  Burdet  as  his  accom- 
plice in  some  treasonable  practices.  Burdet  was 


EXECUTION  OF  BURDET.  385 

accordingly  arrested  on  the  charge  of  conspiring  to 
kill  the  king  and  the  Prince  of  Wales  by  casting 
their  nativity,  and  of  scattering  among  the  people 
papers  predicting  their  death. 

Having  been  taken  to  Westminster  Hall,  Burdet 
and  Stacey  Avere  tried  before  the  Court  of  King's 
Bench.  But  that  court  was  no  longer  presided  over 
by  a  Fortescue  or  a  Markham,  and  it  was  in  vain 
that  Burdet  pleaded  his  innocence,  declaring  that,  so 
far  from  having  any  design  against  the  king's  life, 
he  was  ready  to  fight  for  the  king's  crown,  as  he  had 
done  before.  His  fate  was  sealed  :  the  jury  return- 
ed a  verdict  of  "  Guilty  ;"  the  knight  and  ecclesias- 
tic were  sentenced  to  death ;  and,  having  been  drawn 
from  the  Tower,  they  were  executed  as  traitors  at 
Tyburn. 

The  matter  did  not  rest  here.  On  learning  the 
result  of  his  adherents'  trial,  Clarence,  who  was  in 
Ireland,  naturally  felt  somewhat  dismayed.  Recol- 
lecting how  the  proceedings  against  Eleanor  Cob- 
ham  had  served  as  a  prelude  to  the  destruction  of 
Duke  Humphrey,  and  apprehending  in  this  case  a 
similar  result,  he  determined  to  stir  in  his  own  de- 
fense, and  rushed  into  the  snare  which  his  enemies 
had  set.  Hunying  to  England,  and  reaching  West- 
minster in  the  king's  absence,  he  entered  the  coun- 
cil chamber,  showed  the  lords  there  assembled  pri- 
vate confessions  and  declarations  of  innocence  made 
BB 


386  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

by  Burdet  and  Stacey,  and  protested  vehemently 
against  the  execution  that  had  taken  place. 

At  Windsor  the  king  received  intelligence  of  the 
step  Clarence  had  taken ;  and  the  affair  being  re- 
ported to  him  in  the  worst  light,  he  appears  to  have 
been  seized  with  something  like  temporary  insanity, 
and  to  have  regarded  Clarence's  destruction  as  es- 
sential to  his  own  safety  and  that  of  his  children. 
No  sooner,  in  any  case,  was  news  conveyed  to  him 
that  Clarence  was  "  flying  in  the  face  of  all  justice," 
than  he  hastened  to  Westminster,  summoned  the 
duke  to  the  palace,  and  ordered  him  to  be  commit- 
ted to  the  Tower. 

Having  pushed  matters  to  this  crisis,  the  Wrood- 
villes  did  not  allow  Edward's  passion  to  cool.  It 
was  in  vain  that  the  lord  chancellor  attempted  to 
reconcile  the  king  and  the  captive.  A  Parliament 
was  summoned  to  meet  about  the  middle  of  Janu- 
ary ;  and  when,  on  the  appointed  day,  the  English 
senators  assembled  at  Westminster,  the  judges  were 
summoned  to  the  House  of  Lords,  and  Clarence  was 
brought  to  the  bar  to  be  tried  by  his  peers — the 
young  Duke  of  Buckingham,  who  had  married  the 
queen's  sister,  presiding  as  lord  high  steward,  and 
Edward  appearing  personally  as  accuser.  Absurd 
as  some  of  the  charges  were,  Clarence  had  no  chance 
of  escape.  He  was  charged  with  having  dealt  with 
the  devil  through  necromancers ;  represented  Ed- 


A  STATE  TRIAL.  387 

ward  as  illegitimate  and  without  right  to  the  throne ; 
plotted  to  dethrone  the  king  and  disinherit  the  king's 
children;  retained  possession  of  an  act  of]  Parlia- 
ment, whereby,  in  the  reign  of  Henry,  he  had  been  de- 
clared heir  to  the  crown  after  Edward  of  Lancaster ; 
purchased  the  support  of  the  Lancastrians  by  prom- 
ising to  restore  their  confiscated  estates ;  and  warn- 
ed his  own  retainers  to  be  ready  to  take  up  arms  at 
an  hour's  notice.  Clarence  indignantly  denied  every 
charge ;  but  his  protestations  of  innocence  were  as 
vain  as  those  of  Burdet  had  been.  Edward  appeared 
bent  on  a  conviction,  and  the  peers  had  not  the  cour- 
age to  resist  such  a  pleader.  The  royal  brothers,  in- 
deed, would  seem  to  have  had  all  the  talk  to  them- 
selves— "no  one  denying  Clarence  but  the  king,  and 
no  one  answering  the  king  but  Clarence."  Even 
the  self-sufficient  Buckingham  contented  himself 
with  asking  the  judges  "  whether  the  matters  proved 
against  Clarence  amounted  in  law  to  high  treason." 
The  opinion  of  the  judges  was  altogether  unfavor- 
able to  the  duke.  The  legal  functionaries  answered 
the  lord  high  steward's  question  in  the  affirmative, 
and  the  peers  returned  a  unanimous  verdict  of 
"  Guilty."  On  the  7th  of  February  Buckingham 
pronounced  sentence  of  death. 

When  matters  reached  this  alarming  stage,  the 
Duchess  of  York  interfered ;  and  the  king,  in  a 
somewhat  relenting  mood,  delayed  sending  his  broth- 


388  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

er  to  the  block.  The  Woodvilles,  however,  were 
not  to  be  baffled  of  their  prey ;  and  the  House  of 
Commons,  acting  under  their  influence,  petitioned 
for  the  duke's  immediate  execution.  But  the  son- 
in-law  of  Warwick,  with  all  his  failings,  was  still 
the  idol  of  the  populace ;  and  the  policy  of  having 
him  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill  was  more  than 
doubtful. 

Ere  this,  Clarence  had  been  reconducted  to  the 
Tower,  and  lodged  in  that  part  of  the  metropolitan 
fortress  where  resided  the  Master  Provider  of  the 
King's  Bows.  In  a  gloomy  chamber  of  "  The 
Bowyer  Tower,"  the  duke,  sad  and  solitary,  pars- 
ed several  weeks,  while  his  enemies  decided  what 
should  be  his  fate.  At  length,  about  the  beginning 
of  March,  it  was  rumored  that  the  captive  had  died 
of  grief  and  despair.  The  populace  immediately 
raised  a  shout  of  indignation  on  hearing  of  the 
death  of  their  "Good  Duke,"  and  sternly  refused 
to  believe  that  he  had  not  had  foul  play.  Ere  long 
the  story  which  Shakspeare  has  made  so  familiar 
was  whispered  about. 

The  execution  of  Clarence  having  been  deter- 
mined on — such  was  the  popular  account — he  was 
allowed  the  privilege  of  choosing  what  death  he 
should  die ;  and,  having  an  objection  to  appear  on 
the  scaffold,  he  elected  to  be  drowned  in  that  liquor 
with  which  he  had  so  often  washed  down  care  and 


CLARENCE'S  DEATH.  389 

remorse.  A  butt  of  Malmsey  was  accordingly  in- 
troduced to  the  gloomy  chamber  in  which  he  was 
lodged ;  and,  one  end  of  the  cask  having  been 
knocked  out,  he  was  plunged  into  the  wine,  with 
his  head  down,  and  held  in  that  position  till  life 
was  extinct.  His  body  was  carried  to  Tewkesbury, 
and  laid  beside  that  of  his  duchess  in  the  abbey 
church. 

Having  accomplished  their  revenge  on  the  king's 
brother,  the  queen's  kinsmen  looked  out  for  some- 
thing wherewith  to  gratify  their  avarice.  On  this 
point  the  Woodvilles  were,  as  usual,  successful.  To 
Earl  Rivers  was  given  part  of  the  estates  of  Clar- 
ence ;  and  to  the  Marquis  of  Dorset  the  wardship 
of  the  son  of  the  murdered  duke.  The  king,  how- 
ever, was  the  reverse  of  satisfied.  He  never  recalled 
the  name  of  Clarence  without  a  feeling  of  penitence ; 
and  afterward,  when  sued  for  any  man's  pardon,  he 
was  in  the  habit  of  exclaiming  mournfully,  "  Ah  !  I 
once  had  an  unfortunate  brother,  and  for  his  life  not 
one  man  would  open  his  mouth." 


CHAPTER   XL. 
KING  EDWARD'S  DEATH. 

FOR  some  years  after  the  treaty  of  Picquigny, 
Edward  of  York,  trusting  to  the  friendship  and  re- 
lying on  the  pension  of  King  Louis,  passed  his  time 
in  inglorious  ease  ;  and  Elizabeth  Woodville,  elate 
with  the  prospect  of  her  daughter  sharing  the  throne 
of  a  Valois,  persisted  in  pestering  the  crafty  monarch 
of  France  with  inquiries  when  she  was  to  send  him 
her  young  dauphiness.  Meanwhile,  Louis,  who  had 
no  intention  whatever  of  maintaining  faith  with  the 
King  of  England  one  day  longer  than  prudence  dic- 
tated, was  looking  about  for  a  more  advantageous 
alliance  for  the  heir  to  his  throne. 

After  appearing  for  some  time  utterly  unsuspici- 
ous, Edward,  in  1480,  resolved  on  sending  an  em- 
bassador  to  Paris,  and  Sir  John  Howard  was  select- 
ed as  the  man  to  urge  a  speedy  celebration  of  the 
marriage.  The  plans  of  Louis  were  not  then  quite 
ripe,  but  his  state-craft  did  not  desert  him ;  and, 
at  length,  after  Howard  had  for  some  time  been 
silenced  by  bribes,  and  Edward  deluded  by  flatter- 
ing assurances,  he  set  the  treaty  of  Picquigny  at 
defiance,  and  contracted  a  marriage  between  the 


THE  KING-CRAFT  OF  LOUIS.  391 

dauphin  and  a  daughter  of  the  Emperor  Maxi- 
milian. 

Fortunately  for  Louis,  Edward  was  a  much  less 
formidable  personage  than  of  yore.  Since  return- 
ing from  his  French  expedition,  the  English  king 
had  given  himself  up  to  luxury  and  indolence.  He 
had  drunk  deep,  kept  late  hours,  sat  long  over  the 
wine-cup,  and  gratified  his  sensual  inclinations  with 
little  regard  either  to  his  dignity  as  a  king  or  his 
honor  as  a  man.  Dissipation  and  debauchery  had 
ruined  his  health  and  obscured  his  intellect.  Even 
his  appearance  was  changed  for  the  worse.  His 
person  had  become  corpulent,  and  his  figure  had 
lost  its  grace.  He  was  no  longer  the  Edward  of 
Towton  or  of  Tewkesbury. 

On  discovering,  however,  how  completely  he  had 
been  duped,  Edward  displayed  some  sparks  of  the 
savage  valor  which,  in  other  days,  had  made  him  so 
terrible  a  foe.  Rousing  himself  to  projects  of  re- 
venge, he  vowed  to  carry  such  a  war  into  France 
as  that  country  had  never  before  experienced,  and 
commenced  preparations  for  executing  his  threats. 
As  his  resentment  appeared  implacable,  Louis  deem- 
ed it  prudent  to  find  him  work  nearer  home ;  and, 
with  this  object,  excited  the  King  of  Scots  to  under- 
take a  war  against  England. 

Some  successes  achieved  by  Gloucester  in  Scot- 
land emboldened  Edward  in  his  projects.  It  hap- 


392  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

pened,  however,  that  he  did  not  live  even  to  at- 
tempt the  execution  of  his  threats.  The  excess  of 
his  rage  against  Louis  had  been  such  as  seriously  to 
affect  his  health ;  and,  about  Easter,  1483,  in  his 
forty-second  year,  the  warlike  king  was  laid  pros- 
trate with  a  fever  in  the  Palace  of  Westminster. 
Stretched  on  a  bed  of  sickness,  the  king  found  his 
constitution  rapidly  giving  way;  and,  losing  faith  in 
the  skill  of  his  physicians,  he  referred  his  quarrel 
with  Louis  to  the  judgment  of  GOD,  and  summoned 
the  lords  of  his  court  to  bid  them  farewell. 

The  king,  indeed,  could  not  fail  to  be  anxious  as 
to  the  fortunes  of  the  family  he  was  leaving.  Ever 
since  his  ill-starred  marriage  the  court  had  been, 
distracted  by  the  feuds  of  the  queen's  kindred  and 
the  old  nobility  of  England.  The  death  of  War- 
wick and  the  judicial  murder  of  Clarence  had  by 
no  means  restored  harmony.  At  the  head  of  one 
party  figured  the  queen's  brother,  Earl  Rivers,  and 
her  son,  the  Marquis  of  Dorset ;  at  the  head  of  the 
other  was  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  with  whom 
sided  the  Lords  Stanley  and  Hastings.  Difficult  as 
the  task  might  be,  Edward  hoped  to  reconcile  the 
hostile  factions  ere  going  to  his  grave. 

When  the  lords  appeared  in  the  king's  chamber, 
and  assembled  around  his  bed,  Edward  addressed  to 
them  an  impressive  speech.  Having  indicated  his 
brother  Richard,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  as  the  fittest 


A  LAST  FAREWELL  393 

person  to  be  Protector  of  the  realm,  he  expressed 
much  anxiety  about  the  affairs  of  his  kingdom  and 
family,  pointed  out  the  perils  of  discord  in  a  state, 
and  lamented  that  it  had  been  his  lot  "  to  Avin  the 
courtesy  of  men's  knees  by  the  fall  of  so  many  heads." 
After  thus  smoothing  the  way,  as  it  were,  he  put  it 
to  his  lords,  as  a  last  request,  that  they  should  lay 
aside  all  variance,  and  love  one  another.  At  this 
solemn  appeal  the  lords  acted  their  parts  with  a  de- 
corum which  imposed  on  the  dying  man.  Two  cel- 
ebrated characters,  indeed,  were  absent,  whose  tal- 
ents for  dissimulation  could  not  have  failed  to  dis- 
tinguish them.  Gloucester  was  on  the  borders  of 
Scotland,  and  Elvers  on  the  marches  of  Wales ;  so 
that  Richard  Plantagcnet,  with  his  dark  guile,  and 
Anthony  Woodville,  with  his  airy  pretensions,  were 
wanting  to  complete  the  scene.  But  Hastings,  Dor- 
set, and  others,  though  their  hearts  were  far  asun- 
der, shook  hands  and  embraced  with  every  sem- 
blance of  friendship ;  and  the  king  dismissed  them 
with  the  idea  that  he  had  effected  a  reconciliation. 
His  affairs  on  earth  thus  settled,  as  he  believed, 
Edward  proceeded  to  make  his  peace  with  heaven. 
Having  received  such  consolations  as  the  Church 
administers  to  frail  men  when  they  are  going  to  judg- 
ment, and  committed  his  soul  to  the  mercy  of  GOD, 
Edward  awaited  the  coming  of  the  Great  Destroyer. 
On  the  9th  of  April  his  hour  arrived ;  and,  complain- 


394  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

ing  of  drowsiness,  he  turned  on  his  side.  While  in 
that  position  he  fell  into  the  sleep  that  knows  no 
breaking ;  and  his  spirit,  which  had  so  often  luxu- 
riated in  carnage  and  strife,  departed  in  peace. 

On  the  day  when  the  king  breathed  his  last  he 
lay  exposed  in  the  Palace  of  Westminster,  that  the 
lords,  temporal  and  spiritual,  and  the  municipal 
functionaries  of  London  might  have  an  opportunity 
of  ascertaining  that  he  had  not  been  murdered. 
This  ceremony  over,  the  body  was  seared  and  re- 
moved to  St.  Stephen's  Chapel,  and  there  watched 
by  nobles,  while  masses  were  sung. 

Windsor  had  been  selected  as  the  place  of  inter- 
ment. Ere  being  conveyed  to  its  last  resting-place, 
however,  the  corpse,  covered  with  cloth  of  gold,  was 
carried  to  the  Abbey  of  Westminster  under  a  rich 
canopy  of  cloth  imperial,  supported  by  four  knights, 
Sir  John  Howard  bearing  the  banner  in  front  of  the 
procession,  and  the  officers  of  arms  walking  around. 
Mass  having  been  again  performed  at  Westminster, 
the  mortal  remains  of  the  warrior-king  were  placed 
in  a  chariot  drawn  by  six  horses,  and  conveyed,  by 
slow  stages,  along  the  banks  of  the  Thames.  Hav- 
ing been  met  at  the  gates  of  Windsor,  and  perfumed 
with  odors  by  the  Archbishop  of  York  and  the 
Bishop  of  Winchester  the  corpse  was  borne  in  sol- 
emn procession  to  the  Chapel  of  St.  George,  where, 
placed  in  the  choir,  on  a  hearse  blazing  with  lights 


OBSEQUIES.  395 

and  surrounded  with  banners,  it  was  watched  for 
the  night  by  nobles  and  esquires.  Another  mass, 
more  religious  solemnities,  a  few  more  ceremonies 
befitting  the  rank  of  the  deceased,  and  the  last  Plan- 
tagenet  whose  obsequies  were  performed  with  royal 
honors  was  committed  to  the  tomb. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

THE    DUKE   OF    GLOUCESTER. 

WHETHER  Richard  the  Third,  with  his  hunch 
back,  withered  arm,  splay  feet,  goggle  eyes,  and 
swarthy  countenance,  as  portrayed*  by  poets  and 
chroniclers  of  the  Tudor  period,  very  closely  resem- 
bles the  Richard  of  Baynard's  Castle  and  Bosworth 
Field,  is  a  question  which  philosophical  historians 
have  answered  in  the  negative.  The  evidence  of 
the  old  Countess  of  Desmond,  when  brought  to  light 
by  Horace  "NYalpole  in  1758,  first  began  to  set  the 
world  right  on  this  subject.  Born  about  the  mid- 
dle of  the  fifteenth  century,  she  lived — when  the 
Plantagenets  had  been  displaced  by  the  Tudors,  and 
the  Tudors  succeeded  by  the  Stuarts — to  affirm,  in 
the  seventeenth  century,  that,  in  her  youth,  she  had 
danced  with  Richard  at  his  brother's  court,  and  that 
he  whom  historians  had,  in  deference  to  Tudor  prej- 
udices, represented  as  a  monster  of  ugliness,  was  in 
reality  the  handsomest  man  in  the  room  except  his 
brother  Edward,  and  that  he  was  very  well  made. 

It  can  not  be  denied  that  the  Countess  of  Des- 
mond's description  of  Richard  appears  extremely 
complimentary;  and,  indeed,  it  would  have  been 


RICHARD  AS  HE  WAS.  397 

something  novel  in  human  nature  if  this  lady  of  the 
house  of  Fitzgerald,  in  old  age  and  penury,  had  not 
been  inclined  to  exaggerate  the  personal  advantages 
of  a  Plantagenet  prince  who,  in  the  days  of  her 
youth  and  hope,  had  distinguished  her  by  his  atten- 
tion. Evidence,  however,  exists  in  abundance  to 
prove  that  Richard  was  utterly  unlike  the  deformed 
ruffian  introduced  into  history  by  the  scribes  and 
sheriffs  of  London,  who  plied  their  pens  with  an  eye 
to  the  favor  of  the  Tudors. 

Portraits  and  authentic  descriptions  of  the  last 
Plantagenet  king  which  have  come  down  to  posterity 
convey  the  idea  of  a  man  rather  under-sized  and  hard- 
featured,  with  dark  brown  hair,  an  intellectual  fore- 
head, a  face  slightly  deficient  in  length,  dark,  thought- 
ful eyes,  and  a  short  neck,  and  shoulders  somewhat 
unequal,  giving  an  appearance  of  inelegance  to  a 
figure,  spare  indeed,  and  wanting  in  bulk,  but  wiry, 
robust,  and  sinewy;  trained  by  exercise  to  endure 
fatigue,  and  capable  on  occasions  of  exercising  al- 
most superhuman  strength.  Such,  clad  in  garments 
far  more  gorgeous  than  good  taste  would  have  ap- 
proved, his  head  bent  forward  on  his  bosom,  his 
band  playing  with  his  dagger,  as  if  in  restlessness 
of  mood,  and  his  lips  moving  as  if  in  soliloquy,  ap- 
peared to  his  contemporaries  the  subtle  politician 
who,  at  Baynard's  Castle,  schemed  for  the  crown  of 
St.  Edward.  Such,  arrayed  in  Milan  steel,  bestrid- 


398  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

ing  a  white  steed,  the  emblem  of  sovereignty,  with 
a  surcoat  of  brilliant  colors  over  his  armor,  a  crown 
of  ornament  around  his  helmet,  a  trusty  lance  skill- 
fully poised  in  his  hand,  and  an  intense  craving  for 
vengeance  gnawing  at  his  heart,  appeared  the  fiery 
warrior  whose  desperate  valor  well-nigh  saved  St. 
Edward's  crown  from  fortune  and  the  foe  on  Bos- 
worth  Field. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

THE  PROTECTOR  AND  THE  PROTECTORATE. 

BEFORE  "giving  up  his  soul  to  GOD"  in  the 
Palace  of  Westminster,  the  fourth  Edward  nom- 
inated his  brother  Richard,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  as 
Protector  of  England  during  the  minority  of  Ed- 
ward the  Fifth.  The  choice  was  one  of  which  the 
nation  could  not  but  approve.  Richard  was  in  the 
thirty-first  year  of  his  life,  and  in  the  full  vigor  of 
his  intellect ;  with  faculties  refined  by  education 
and  sharpened  by  use  ;  knowledge  of  mankind,  ac- 
quired in  civil  strife  and  in  the  experience  of  start- 
ling vicissitudes  of  fortune ;  a  courage  in  battle 
which  had  made  his  slight  form  and  grisly  cog- 
nizance terrible  to  foes  on  fields  of  fame ;  a  genius 
for  war  which  had  given  him  an  enviable  reputa- 
tion throughout  Christendom  ;  a  temper  hitherto  so 
carefully  kept  under  restraint  that  any  man  hinting 
at  the  excess  of  its  ferocity  would  have  been  deem- 
ed insane  ;  and  an  ambition  hitherto  so  well  masked 
by  affected  humility  that  no  one  could  have  imagined 
it  capable  of  prompting  political  crimes,  unjustifia- 
ble, save  by  those  Italian  maxims  associated  with 
the  name  of  Machiavelli. 


400  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

It  was  on  the  2d  of  October,  1452,  shortly  after 
the  Roses  were  plucked  in  the  Temple  Gardens,  that 
Cicely,  Duchess  of  York,  gave  birth  to  her  youngest 
son,  Richard,  in  the  Castle  of  Fotheringay.  He 
was,  therefore,  scarcely  three  years  old  when  the 
Wars  of  the  Roses  commenced  at  St.  Albans,  and 
little  more  than  eight  when  the  Duke  of  York  was 
slain  by  the  Lancastrians  on  "Wakefield  Green. 
Alarmed,  after  that  event,  at  the  aspect  of  affairs, 
warned  by  the  murder  of  her  second  son,  the  boy- 
Earl  of  Rutland,  and  eager  to  save  George  and 
Richard  from  the  fate  of  their  elder  brother,  the 
Duchess  Cicely  sent  them  to  Holland,  trusting  that, 
even  in  case  of  the  Lancastrians  triumphing,  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy  would  generously  afford  them 
protection  and  insure  them  safety. 

After  being  sent  to  the  Continent,  Richard  and 
his  brother  remained  for  some  time  in  secret  at 
Utrecht ;  but  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  hearing  that 
the  young  Plantagenets  were  in  that  city,  had  them 
sought  out  and  escorted  to  Bruges,  where  they  were 
received  with  the  honors  due  to  their  rank.  When, 
however,  his  victory  at  Towton  made  Edward  King 
of  England,  he  requested  Burgundy  to  send  the 
princes;  and,  in  the  spring  of  1461,  "The  Good 
Duke"  had  them  honorably  escorted  to  Calais  on 
their  way  home.  When,  after  their  return  to  En- 
gland, George  was  dignified  with  the  dukedom  of 
Clarence,  Richard  became  Duke  of  Gloucester. 


RICHARD'S  YOUTH.  401 

At  an  early  age,  Richai'd,  Avho  was  energetic  and 
highly  educated,  acquired  great  influence  over  the 
indolent  and  illiterate  Edward ;  and  in  the  summer 
of  1470,  when  scarcely  eighteen,  he  was  appointed 
Warden  of  the  West  Marches.  The  return  of 
Warwick  from  France  interrupting  his  tenure  of 
office,  he  shared  his  brother's  flight  to  the  territories 
of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy ;  and  when  Edward  land- 
ed at  Kavenspur,  to  conquer  or  die,  Richard  was  by 
his  side,  and  proved  an  ally  of  no  mean  prowess. 
Being  intrusted  with  high  command  at  Barnet  and 
Tcwkesbury,  his  conduct  won  him  high  reputation  ; 
and,  in  spite  of  his  foppery  and  fondness  for  dress 
and  gay  apparel,  he  showed  himself,  at  both  of  these 
battles,  a  sage  counselor  in  camp  and  a  fiery  war- 
rior in  conflict. 

The  Lancastrians  having  been  put  down  and  peace 
restored,  Richard  turned  his  thoughts  to  matrimo- 
ny, and  resolved  to  espouse  Anne  Neville,  daughter 
of  Warwick  and  widow  of  Edward  of  Lancaster. 
Clarence,  wishing  to  keep  the  Warwick  baronies  to 
himself,  as  husband  of  Isabel  Neville,  attempted,  by 
concealing  her  sister,  to  prevent  this  marriage.  But 
Richard  was  not  to  be  baffled.  Pie  discovered  the 
fair  Anne  in  London,  disguised  as  a  cook-maid,  and 
carrying  the  youthful  widow  ofT,  placed  her  for  se- 
curity in  the  sanctuary  of  St.  Martin's.  Neverthe- 
less, Clarence  continued  unreasonable.  "  Richard 
Cc 


4&!  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

may  have  my  sister-in-law  if  lie  will,"  he  said,  "  but 
v/e  will  part  no  livelihood."  Edward,  however, 
took  the  matter  in  hand,  pacified  his  brothers,  al- 
lotted Anne  a  handsome  portion  out  of  the  'War- 
wick estates,  and  had  the  marriage  with  Richard 
forthwith  solemnized.  One  son,  destined  to  figure 
for  a  brief  period  as  Prince  of  Wales,  was  the  result 
of  this  union. 

Years  rendered  memorable  by  the  inglorious  ex- 
pedition to  France  and  the  unfortunate  execution 
of  Clarence  passed  over;  and  in  1482,  when  Ed- 
ward conspired  with  the  exiled  Duke  of  Albany  to 
dethrone  James,  King  of  Scots,  Richard,  who,  among 
his  contemporaries,  had  acquired  the  reputation  of 
being  "a  man  of  deep  reach  and  policy."  was  in- 
trusted with  the  conduct  of  the  war.  Having  been 
nominated  lieutenant  general  against  the  Scot?,  and 
joined  by  the  Earl  of  Northumberland  and  Lord 
Stanley,  he  led  twenty-five  thousand  men  across 
(he  Tweed,  regained  Berwick,  which  had  been  sur- 
rendered by  Queen  Margaret,  and  marched  to  the 
gates  of  Edinburgh.  By  this  expedition  Richard 
acquired  an  increase  of  popularity ;  and  he  was  still 
in  the  north  when  Edward  the  Fourth  departed 
this  life  and  his  son  was  proclaimed  as  Edward  the 
Fifth. 

At  that  time  the  young  king — a  boy  of  thirteen — 
wa-  residing  in  the  Castle  of  Ludlow,  on  the  inarches 


EDWARD  THE  FIFTH.  403 

of  Wales,  and  receiving  his  education  under  the 
auspices  of  his  maternal  uncle,  Anthony  Wood- 
ville,  Earl  Rivers.  Anthony  was  eminently  quali- 
fied for  the  post  of  tutor,  and  every  precaution  ap- 
pears to  have  been  taken  to  render  the  boy  worthy 
of  the  crown  which  he  was  destined  never  to  wear. 

While  the  news  of  his  father's  death  was  travel- 
ing to  young  Edward  at  Ludlow,  the  feud  between 
the  ancient  nobility  and  the  queen's  kindred  broke 
out  afresh  at  Westminster,  and  London  was  agitated 
by  the  factious  strife.  Elizabeth,  jealous  of  the  de- 
signs of  the  adverse  faction,  wrote  to  Rivers  to  raise 
a  large  force  in  Wales,  and  conduct  the  king  to  the 
capital  to  be  crowned ;  and  she  empowered  her  son, 
the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  who  was  Constable  of  the 
Tower,  to  take  the  royal  treasure  out  of  that  for- 
tress, and  fit  out  a  fleet.  Hastings,  alarmed  at  these 
indications  of  suspicion,  threatened  to  retire  to  Ca- 
lais, of  which  he  was  captain  ;  and  both  parties  ap- 
pealed to  Richard,  who  had  hitherto  so  acted  as  to 
give  offense  to  neither. 

Richard,  on  learning  the  state  of  affairs,  imme- 
diately wrote  to  the  queen,  recommending  that  the 
army  gathering  round  her  son  should  be  dismissed ; 
and  the  royal  widow,  who  was  totally  devoid  of  the 
intellect  and  sagacity  necessary  for  such  a  crisis, 
dispatched  a  messenger  to  her  brother  to  disband 
his  troops.  The  young  king,  however,  set  out  from 


404  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Ludlow,  and,  attended  by  Earl  Elvers,  Elizabeth's 
second  son,  Richard  Grey,  and  Sir  Thomas  Vaugh- 
an,  he  approached  Northampton  on  the  22d  of  April, 
and  learned  that  Richard  had  already  arrived  at 
that  town. 

Richard,  as  we  have  said,  was  on  the  frontiers  of 
Scotland  when  his  brother  expired  at  Westminster. 
On  receiving  intelligence  of  this  sad  event  he  rode 
southward  to  York,  and  entered  that  city  with  a 
retinue  of  six  hundred  knights  and  esquires,  all 
dressed,  like  himself,  in  deep  mourning.  At  York  he 
ordered  a  grand  funeral  service  to  be  performed  in 
the  Cathedral ;  and,  having  summoned  the  magnates 
of  the  neighborhood  to  swear  fealty  to  Edward  the 
Fifth,  he  set  them  the  example  by  taking  the  oath 
first.  After  going  through  this  ceremony,  he  wrote 
to  Elizabeth  Woodville  and  to  Earl  Rivers,  express- 
ing the  utmost  loyalty  and  affection  for  the  young 
king;  but,  at  the  same  time,  a  messenger  was  sent 
to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  appointing  a  meeting 
at  Northampton. 

Again  taking  the  road  southward,  Richard  reach- 
ed Northampton  on  the  22d  of  April ;  and,  learn- 
ing that  the  king  was  every  hour  expected,  he  re- 
solved to  await  the  arrival  of  his  nephew  and  escort 
him  safely  to  London.  Ere  long  Rivers  and  Rich- 
ard Grey  appeared  to  pay  their  respects,  and  an- 
nounce that  the  king  had  gone  forward  to  Stony 


ARREST  OF  THE  WOODV1LLES.  405 

Stratford.  Richard,  who  had  hitherto  given  the 
Woodvilles  no  cause  for  suspicion,  was  doubtless 
somewhat  surprised  at  this  intelligence.  He,  how- 
ever, suppressed  his  emotions,  listened  patiently  to 
Anthony's  frivolous  apology  about  fearing  that 
Northampton  would  have  been  too  small  a  place  to 
accommodate  so  many  people,  and  with  the  utmost 
courtesy  invited  the  uncle  and  nephew  to  remain 
and  sup. 

Rivers  and  Grey  accepted  without  hesitation  an 
invitation  given  in  so  friendly  a  tone ;  and  soon 
after,  Buckingham  arrived  at  the  head  of  three  hund- 
red horsemen.  Every  thing  went  calmly.  The  two 
dukes  passed  the  evening  with  Rivers  and  Grey; 
they  all  talked  in  the  most  friendly  way ;  and  next 
morning  they  rode  together  to  Stony  Stratford. 

On  reaching  Stony  Stratford,  Richard  found  the 
king  mounting  to  renew  his  journey ;  and  this  cir- 
cumstance seems  to  have  convinced  him  that  he  was 
intended  by  the  Woodvilles  first  as  a  dupe  and  then 
as  a  victim.  At  all  events,  their  evident  anxiety  to 
prevent  an  interview  between  him  and  his  nephew 
afforded  him  a  fair  opportunity  for  taking  strong 
measures,  and  he  did  not  hesitate.  Turning  to  Riv- 
ers and  Grey,  he  immediately  charged  them  with 
estranging  the  affections  of  his  nephew,  and  caused 
them  to  be  arrested  along  with  Sir  Thomas  Vaughan. 

Having  ordered  the  prisoners  to  be  conveyed  to 


4C6  THE  WARS  OF  THE   ROSES. 

the  castle  of  Sheriff  Hutton,  Richard  and  Bucking- 
ham bent  their  knees  to  their  youthful  sovereign, 
and  explained  to  him  that  Rivers,  Grey,  and  Dorset 
were  traitors ;  but  Edward,  educated  by  his  mater- 
nal relatives  and  much  attached  to  them,  could  not 
conceal  his  displeasure  at  their  arrest. 

This  scene  over,  Kichard  dismissed  all  domestics 
with  whom  Rivers  had  surrounded  the  young  king, 
and  conducted  his  nephew  toward  London,  giving 
out  as  he  went  that  the  "Woodvilles  had  been  con- 
spiring. On  the  4th  of  May  they  approached  the 
metropolis ;  and  at  Hornsey  Wood  they  were  met 
by  Lord-mayor  Shaw,  with  the  sheriffs  and  alder- 
men, in  their  scarlet  robes,  and  live  hundred  of  the 
citizens,  clad  in  violet  and  gallantly  mounted.  At- 
tended as  became  a  king,  young  Edward  entered 
London.  Richard  rode  bareheaded  before  his  neph- 
ew ;  many  knights  and  nobles  followed  ;  and.  amid 
loud  acclamations  from  the  populace,  Edward  the 
Fifth  was  conducted  to  the  Bishop's  Palace.  A 
grand  council  was  then  summoned,  and  Richard 
was  declared  Protector  of  England. 

Meanwhile,  Elizabeth  Woodville  had  been  seized 
with  dread.  Alarmed  at  the  report  that  her  broth- 
er and  son  were  under  arrest,  and  apprehensive  of 
Richard's  intentions,  she  fled  to  the  sanctuary  with 
her  five  daughters,  her  eldest  son,  the  Marquis  of 
Dorset,  and  her  youngest  son,  Richard,  a  boy  often. 


ELIZABETH  IN  THE  SANCTUARY.  -107 

who  had  been  created  Duke  of  York,  and  contract- 
ed in  marriage  to  an  heiress  of  the  Mowbrays  who 
died  in  infancy.  The  king,  on  learning  that  his 
mother  was  alarmed,  expressed  his  grief  with  tears 
in  his  eyes.  At  first  Kichard  only  protested  his 
loyalty,  and  marveled  that  his  nephew  should  be  so 
melancholy;  but  ere  long  he  resolved  to  turn  the 
royal  boy's  unhappiness  to  account,  and  with  this 
view  sent  the  Archbishop  of  York  to  Elizabeth  to 
.-;iy  that,  to  the  king's  happiness,  the  company  of 
Iiis  brother  was  essential. 

The  prelate  carried  the  Protectors  message  to 
the  sanctuary,  and  found  the  mournful  mother  ear- 
nestly opposed  to  delivering  up  the  Duke  of  York. 
The  archbishop,  however,  told  her  plainly  that  if  she 
did  not  consent,  he  feared  some  sharper  course  would 
speedily  be  taken  ;  and  at  this  warning  Elizabeth, 
who  was  at  once  timorous  and  imprudent,  began  to 
yield.  At  length  she  took  the  boy  by  the  hand  and 
led  him  to  the  archbishop.  "  My  lord,"  she  said, 
"  here  he  is.  For  my  own  part,  I  never  will  deliver 
him  freely ;  but  if  you  must  needs  have,  take  him, 
and  at  your  hands  I  will  require  him.'' 

At  that  time  Kichard  and  other  lords  were  in  the 
Star  Chamber,  and  thither  the  archbishop  led  the 
weeping  boy.  As  they  entered,  Richard  rose,  cm- 
braced  his  nephew  affectionately,  and  exclaimed  with 
characteristic  dissimulation,  "Welcome,  nephew. 


103  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

with  all  my  heart.  Next  to  my  sovereign  lord, 
your  brother,  nothing  gives  me  so  much  contentment 
as  your  presence."  A  few  days  after  this  scene  was 
enacted,  Eichard  declared  that  it  was  necessary  that 
the  king  and  his  brother  should  be  sent  to  some 
place  of  security  till  the  distempers  of  the  common- 
wealth were  healed  ;  and  a  great  council,  summoned 
to  discuss  the  question,  resolved,  on  the  motion  of 
Buckingham,  that  the  princes  should  be  sent  to  the 
Tower.  Accordingly,  they  were  conducted  to  the 
metropolitan  fortress ;  and  it  was  intimated  that 
they  were  to  remain  there  till  preparations  had  been 
made  for  the  king's  coronation. 

The  fate  of  Rivers,  Grey,  and  Vaughan  having 
been  decided  on,  the  13th  of  June  was  appointed  as 
the  day  of  execution  ;  and  Sir  Richard  Ratcliffe.  an 
unscrupulous  agent  of  Richard,  was  intrusted  with 
the  ceremony.  Anthony  Woodville  was  prevented 
from  addressing  the  people  on  the  occasion,  and  pos- 
terity has  been  deprived  of  the  satisfaction  of  read- 
ing the  accomplished  adventurer's  vindication  ;  but 
Vaughan  was  more  lucky  in  his  effort  to  be  heard. 

"I  appeal,"  said  Vaughan,  solemnly,  "to  GOD'S 
high  tribunal  against  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  for 
this  wrongful  murder." 

"You  have  made  a  goodly  appeal,"  said  Ratcliffe, 
•with  a  sneer,  "  so  lay  down  your  head." 

"I die  in  the  right,  Ratcliffe,"  answered  Vaughan ; 


RICHARD  AND   HASTINGS  109 

and,  preparing  to   submit  to   the  blow,  he   added, 
"Take  heed  that  you  die  not  in  the  wrong." 

Ere  disposing  of  the  Woodvilles,  Kichard  per- 
suaded himself  that  his  dream  of  the  crown  might 
be  realized,  and  by  bribes  and  promises  purchased 
Buckingham's  aid  in  overthrowing  the  obstacles  that 
stood  in  his  way.  Anxious,  also,  to  gain  over  Has- 
tings, he  deputed  the  task  of  sounding  him  to  Wil- 
liam Catesby,  an  eminent  lawyer,  who  descended 
from  an  ancient  family  at  Lapworth,  in  Warwick- 
shire, and  who  was  destined  to  acquire  an  unenvia- 
ble notoriety  in  Richard's  service.  The  result  was 
not  satisfactory.  In  fact,  Hastings,  though  he  heart- 
ily concurred  in  'Richard's  measures  against  the 
Woodvilles,  was  determined  to  stand  by  Edward's 
sons  to  the  death ;  and,  ere  long,  matters  arrived  at 
such  a  pass  that,  while  Richard  sat  at  the  head  of  a 
majority  of  the  council  at  Crosby  Hall,  Hastings 
presided  over  a  minority  at  the  Tower.  The  party 
of  Hastings  appeared  formidable.  Lord  Stanley, 
among  others,  took  part  in  its  proceedings;  and 
Stanley's  son,  George,  Lord  Strange,  was  reported 
to  be  levying  forces  in  Lancashire  to  give  effect  to 
its  decisions.  Richard  was  not  blind  to  the  fact 
that  if  he  did  not  destroy  the  confederacy  forthwith 
it  would  destroy  him.  At  such  a  crisis  he  was 
neither  so  timid  nor  so  scrupulous  as  to  hesitate  as 
to  the  means. 


410  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Some  years  before  his  death,  Edward  of  York, 
while  pursuing  his  amours  in  the  city  of  London, 
was  captivated  by  the  charms  of  June  Shore,  a 
young  city  dame,  whose  name  occupu-s  an  unfor- 
tunate place  in  the  history  of  the  period.  This 
woman,  after  being  for  seven  years  the  wife  of  a 
reputable  goldsmith,  allowed  herself,  in  an  evil  hour, 
to  be  lured  from  the  house  of  her  husband,  and  fig- 
ured for  some  time  as  the  king's  mistress.  Not- 
withstanding her  equivocal  position,  however,  Mis- 
tress Shore  exhibited  many  redeeming  qualities. 
Her  wit  and  beauty  giving  her  great  influence  over 
Edward,  she  exercised  it  for  worthy  purposes,  and 
was  ever  ready  to  relieve  the  needy,  to  shield  the 
innocent,  and  protect  the  oppressed. 

When  Edward  had  been  laid  at  rest  in  St. 
George's  Chapel,  and  Elizabeth  Woodville  fled  to 
the  sanctuary,  Mistress  Shore  manifested  much  sym- 
pathy for  the  distressed  queen  ;  and,  having  formed 
an  intimacy  with  Lord  Hastings,  she  framed  some- 
thing resembling  a  plot  against  the  Protector.  Eliz- 
abeth at  once  forgave  Hastings  the  hostility  he  had 
displayed  toward  her  kindred,  and  forgave  Mistress 
Shore  for  having  supplanted  her  in  Edward's  affec- 
tions, and  the  three  became  allies.  I?ichard's  jeal- 
ousy was  aroused,  and  he  resolved  to  make  this  ex- 
traordinary alliance  the  means  of  effecting  the  ruin 
of  Hastings. 


A  COUP  D'ETAT.  411 

It  was  Friday,  the  13th  of  June — the  day  on 
which  Rivers,  Grey,  and  Vaughan  suffered  at  Ponte- 
f'ract — and  Hasting?,  Stanley,  the  Bishop  of  Ely,  the 
Archbishop  of  York,  with  other  men  of  mark,  had 
assembled  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  Tower,  when  the 
Protector  suddenly  entered  the  council  chamber  and 
took  his  seat  at  the  table.  Richard  appeared  in  a 
lively  mood,  conversed  for  a  while  gayly  with  those 
present,  and  quite  surprised  them  by  the  mirth 
which  he  exhibited. 

Having  set  the  lords  somewhat  at  their  ease  and 
persuaded  them  to  proceed  with  business,  Richard 
begged  them  to  spare  him  for  a  while,  and,  leaving 
the  council  chamber,  he  remained  absent  for  an 
hour.  Between  ten  and  eleven  he  returned,  but 
frowning  and  fretting,  knitting  his  brow  and  biting 
his  lips. 

'•What  punishment,"  he  asked,  seating  himself, 
"  do  they  deserve  who  have  imagined  and  compass- 
ed my  destruction,  who  am  so  nearly  related  to  the 
king,  and  intrusted  with  the  government  of  the 
realm  T' 

"  Whoever  they  be,"  answered  Hastings,  after  a 
pause,  "  they  deserve  the  death  of  traitors." 

"  These  traitors,"  cried  Richard,  "  are  the  sor- 
ceress my  brother's  wife,  and  her  accomplice,  Jane 
Shore,  his  mistress,  with  others,  their  associates, 
who  have,  by  their  witchcraft,  wasted  my  body." 


41-2  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSKs 

"Certainly,  my  lord,"  said  Hastings,  alter  exhib- 
iting some  confusion,  "  if  they  be  guilty  of  these 
crimes,  they  deserve  the  severest  punishment." 

"  What  ?''  exclaimed  Richard,  furiously,  "  do  you 
reply  to  me  with  ifs  and  with  ands  ?  I  tell  thee 
they  have  so  done,  and  that  I  will  make  good  on 
your  body,  traitor." 

After  threatening  Hastings,  Richard  struck  the 
council  table,  and  immediately  a  cry  of  "  Treason" 
arose,  and  armed  men  rushed  into  the  chamber. 

"  I  arrest  thee,  traitor,"  said  Richard,  turning  to 
Hastings. 

"  Me,  my  lord  ?"  asked  Hastings,  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  thee,  traitor,"  said  Richard  ;  "  and,  by  St. 
Paul,  I  swear  I  will  not  to  dinner  till  I  have  thy 
head  off." 

While  this  conversation  was  passing  between  the 
Protector  and  Hastings,  one  of  the  soldiers,  as  if  by 
accident  or  mistake,  struck  a  blow  at  Lord  Stanley. 
But  the  noble  baron,  who  had  no  ambition  to  share 
his  ally's  fate,  and  who,  indeed,  contrived  to  carry 
his  wise  head  to  the  grave,  saved  himself  on  this  oc- 
casion by  jerking  under  the  table,  and  escaped  with- 
out any  other  bodily  injury  than  a  bruise. 

While  Lord  Stanley,  the  Archbishop  of  York,  and 
the  Bishop  of  Ely  were  arrested,  and  shut  up  in  va- 
rious parts  of  the  Tower,  Hastings  was  hurried  out- 
side for  immediate  execution.  Richard  would  not 


HASTINGS  BEHEADED.  413 

even  allow  the  headsman  time  enough  to  erect  a 
seaiFokl ;  but  a  log  of  wood  answered  the  purpose. 
This,  having  been  found  in  the  court  of  the  Tower, 
was  carried  to  the  green  near  the  chapel ;  and  the 
lord  chamberlain,  after  being  led  thither,  was  with- 
out farther  ceremony  beheaded.  At  the  same  time 
the  sheriffs  of  London  proceeded  to  Mistress  Shore's 
house,  took  possession  of  her  goods,  which  were 
valued  at  three  thousand  marks,  and  conveyed  her 
through  the  city  to  the  Tower.  On  being  brought 
before  the  council,  however,  on  the  charge  of  sor- 
cery, no  evidence  worthy  of  credit  was  produced, 
and  an  acquittal  was  the  consequence. 

The  sudden  execution  of  the  lord  chamberlain 
naturally  excited  much  interest  in  the  city ;  and,  as 
Hastings  happened  to  be  a  great  favorite  with  the 
inhabitants,  Richard  deemed  it  necessary  to  vouch- 
safe an  explanation.  Having  therefore  sent  for 
some  of  the  influential  citizens,  and  frankly  justi- 
fied himself  as  having  acted  simply  in  self-defense, 
he,  within  two  hour?,  caused  a  proclamation,  under 
the  great  seal,  fairly  written  on  parchment,  to  be 
read  by  a  herald-at-arms,  with  great  solemnity,  in 
various  parts  of  London.  LTnfortunately,  this  vin- 
dication appeared  so  soon,  after  the  execution  that 
people  could  not  help  suspecting  that  it  had  been 
drawn  up  before. 

"  Here's  a  gay  goodly  cast,"  remarked  the  school- 


414  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

master  of  St.  Paul's,  as  the  document  was  read  at 
the  Cross,  "  soul  cast  away  for  haste." 

"Ay,"  said  a  merchant  standing  by,  "I  think  it 
has  been  written  by  the  spirit  of  prophecy." 


CHAPTER  XLIH. 

THE  USURPATION. 

AFTER  mewing  the  princes  in  the  Tower,  behead- 
ing Hastings  in  London  and  the  Woodvilles  at  Pon- 
tefract,  placing  such  foes  to  his  pretensions  as  Lord 
Stanley  and  the  Bishop  of  Ely  under  lock  and  key, 
and  arousing  the  people's  moral  indignation  by  the 
scandal  of  a  king's  widow  taking  counsel  with  her 
husband's  mistress  to  embarrass  the  government 
carried  on  in  the  name  of  her  son,  Richard  applied 
himself  resolutely  to  secure  the  prize  on  which  he 
had  set  his  heart.  Ere  long,  the  citizens  who  dis- 
cussed the  proclamation  about  Hastings  were  des- 
tined to  have  fresh  subjects  for  gossip. 

Among  the  numerous  ladies  upon  whom  Edward, 
about  the  beginning  of  his  reign,  cast  admiring  eyes, 
was  Eleanor  Talbot,  grand-daughter  of  the  great 
Earl  of  Shrewsbury.  This  patrician  dame  was  the 
widow  of  Lord  Butler  of  Sudeley,  and  had  seen  fif- 
teen more  summers  than  her  royal  lover.  Edward, 
not  on  that  account  the  less  enamored,  asked  her  to 
become  his  wife ;  and,  won  by  the  ardor  of  his  at- 
tachment, Eleanor  consented  to  a  secret  marriage. 
The  ceremony  was  performed  by  Dr.  Stillington, 


416  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Bishop  of  Bath  ;  but,  as  time  passed  on,  the  Yorkist 
king's  amorous  heart  led  him  into  another  engage- 
ment, and  the  neglected  Eleanor  was  astonished 
with  news  of  his  having  married  Elizabeth  Wood- 
ville.  On  hearing  of  his  faithlessness  she  fell  into 
a  profound  melancholy,  and  afterward  lived  in  sad- 
ness and  retirement. 

Tliis  silent  repudiation  of  a,  daughter  of  their 
house  shocked  the  propriety  and  hurt  the  pride  of 
the  Talbots,  and  they  applied  to  Stillington  to  de- 
mand satisfaction.  Not  relishing  the  perilous  duty, 
the  bishop  spoke  to  Richard  on  the  subject,  and 
Gloucester  mentioned  it  to  the  king.  This  inter- 
cession proved  of  no  avail ;  and  Edward  displayed 
such  fury  on  learning  that  the  secret  was  known, 
that  nobody  who  valued  a  head  would  have  cared 
to  allude  to  it  while  he  was  on  the  throne.  But 
Richard,  who  had  not  forgotten  a  circumstance  so 
important,  now  saw  that  the  time  had  come  when 
the  secret  might  be  used  to  advance  his  own  for- 
tunes. It  was  necessary,  however,  that  the  facts 
should  be  published  in  such  a  way  as  to  produce  a 
strong  impression,  and  a  plan  was  devised  for  bring- 
ing together  a  multitude. 

For  this  purpose,  Richard  caused  Mistress  Shore 
to  be  again  dragged  into  public,  and  tried  before 
the  spiritual  courts  for  her  scandalous  manner  of 
life.  The  Protector  was  not  this  time  disappointed. 


PENANCE  OF  JANE  SHORE.  417 

However  unfounded  the  charge  of  sorcery,  there  was 
no  lack  of  evidence  as  to  her  frailties,  and  she  was 
condemned  to  do  open  penance.  Sunday  was  ap- 
pointed for  this  act  of  humiliation ;  and  on  that 
day,  through  streets  crowded  with  spectators,  the 
erring  woman  was  under  the  necessity  of  walking  to 
St.  Paul's  barefooted,  wrapped  in  a  white  sheet,  and 
holding  a  lighted  taper  of  wax  in  her  hand. 

This  exhibition  was  of  itself  deemed  likely  to  ad- 
vance the  Protector's  interests  by  impressing  people 
with  a  high  opinion  of  his  worth  as  a  reformer  of 
morals ;  but  Richard  had  arranged  that,  ere  the 
crowd  assembled  as  spectators  had  time  to  disperse, 
another  and  a  far  more  important  scene  should  be 
enacted.  In  this  the  chief  actor  was  Dr.  Shaw,  an 
Augustine  friar  of  high  reputation  and  great  popu- 
larity. Mounting  the  pulpit  at  St.  Paul's  Cross, 
Shaw,  who  was  a  brother  of  the  lord-mayor  and  an 
adherent  of  the  Protector,  preached  from  the  text, 
"The  multiplying  brood  of  the  ungodly  shall  not 
thrive,  nor  take  deep  rooting  from  bastard  slips ;" 
and  proceeded  boldly  to  prove  that  the  princes  in 
the  Tower  were  illegitimate. 

Richard  appears  to  have  found  this  stratagem  un- 
successful ;  but  he  did  not  dream  of  abandoning  his 
ambitious  project.  Nor  can  he,  with  justice,  be  se- 
verely blamed  for  setting  aside  the  sons  of  Elizabeth 
Woodville.  However  the  matter  may  have  been 
D  n 


418  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Blurred  over  by  men  writing  with  the  fear  of  the 
Tudors  before  their  eyes,  hardly  any  doubt  can  ex- 
ist that  Edward  was  guilty  of  bigamy,  and  that  his 
marriage  with  Elizabeth  was  invalid  ;  for  Philip  de 
Comines  bears  witness  to  having  heard  Bishop  Stil- 
lington  state  that  he  had  married  the  king  to  Lady 
Butler ;  and  Eleanor  undoubtedly  survived  that  un- 
fortunate ceremony  performed  on  a  May  morning  in 
the  chapel  at  Grafton. 

But  the  illegitimacy  of  Edward's  offspring  did  not 
make  Richard  heir  of  the  house  of  York.  Between 
him  and  the  crown  stood  the  children  of  Clarence, 
Edward  Flantagenet,  Earl  of  Warwick,  and  his  sis- 
ter Margaret,  afterward  Countess  of  Salisbury  and 
mother  of  Cardinal  Pole.  The  claim  of  these  chil- 
dren was  such  as  could  not  decently  be  rejected ;  but, 
having  gone  too  far  to  recede,  Richard  pretended  that 
their  father's  attainder  disqualified  them  from  inher- 
iting, and  adopted  measures  for  usurping  the  crown. 

Richard  again  invoked  the  aid  of  Buckingham ; 
and,  on  the  Tuesday  after  Dr.  Shaw's  sermon,  attend- 
ed by  nobles,  knights,  and  citizens,  Buckingham  ap- 
peared on  the  hustings  at  Guildhall,  and  harangued 
the  populace.  The  duke's  oratory  was  successful. 
Some  of  the  wealthy  citizens,  indeed,  asked  time  for 
consideration ;  but  the  multitude  tossed  their  bon- 
nets in  the  air,  and  shouted,  "  Long  live  King  Rich- 
ard." 


YOUNG  EDWARD  SET  ASIDE  419 

At  Baynard's  Castle,  with  the  Duchess  of  York, 
Richard  was  then  residing  ;  and  thither,  to  wait 
upon  him,  the  citizens  sent  a  deputation,  headed  by 
the  lord-mayor  and  accompanied  by  Buckingham. 
On  being  informed  that  a  number  of  people  were  in 
the  castle  court,  Richard  affected  alarm  and  declined 
to  receive  them  ;  but,  at  length,  they  were  admitted, 
and  Buckingham  presented  an  address,  praying  Rich- 
ard to  take  the  crown  as  his  by  right  of  birth  and 
the  election  of  the  estates  of  the  realm. 

"  I  little  thought,  cousin,"  said  Richard,  angrily, 
"  that  you,  of  all  men,  would  have  moved  me  to  a 
matter  which,  of  all  things,  I  most  decline." 

"  The  free  people  of  England  will  never  be  ruled 
by  a  bastard,"  said  Buckingham  ;  "  and  if  you,  the 
true  heir,  refuse  the  crown,  they  know  where  to  find 
another  who  will  gladly  accept  it." 

"  Well,"  said  Richard,  with  the  air  of  a  man  mak- 
ing a  great  sacrifice,  "since  I  perceive  that  the  whole 
realm  is  resolved  not  to  permit  my  nephew  to  reign, 
and  that  the  right  of  succession  belongs  to  me,  I  am 
content  to  submit  to  the  will  of  the  people." 

On  hearing  this  speech  the  citizens  raised  a  cry  of 
"  Long  live  King  Richard,  our  sovereign  lord ;"  and 
the  brief  reign  of  Edward  the  Fifth  was  at  an  end. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

RICHARD'S  CORONATION. 

WHEN  Richard  had  expressed  his  intention  to 
usurp  the  English  crown,  he  fixed  the  6th  day  of 
July,  1483,  for  his  coronation,  and  caused  prepara- 
tions to  be  made  for  performing  the  ceremony  with 
such  magnificence  as  was  likely  to  render  the  occa- 
sion memorable.  Never  had  arrangements  been 
made  on  so  splendid  a  scale  for  investing  a  king  of 
England  with  the  symbols  of  power. 

At  the  same  time  Richard  took  precautions  against 
any  opposition  that  might  be  offered  by  the  friends 
of  Elizabeth  Woodville.  From  the  north  were 
brought  five  thousand  fighting  men,  "  evil  appareled, 
and  worse  harnessed,  in  rusty  armor,  neither  de- 
fensible for  proof  nor  scoured  for  show,"  but  witli 
fearless  hearts  and  strong  hands.  Their  leader  was 
one  whose  name  a  Woodville  could  hardly  hear 
without  growing  pale.  For  it  was  Robin  of  Redes- 
dale,  who,  in  other  days,  had  led  the  half  mob,  half 
army  that  seized  and  beheaded  old  Earl  Rivers,  and 
that  son  of  Earl  Rivers  who,  while  in  his  teens,  had 
wedded  a  dowager  duchess  in  her  eighty-second  year. 
On  the  4th  of  July  these  northern  soldiers  encamp- 


A  CEREMONY.  421 

ed  in  Finsbury  Fields,  and  inspired  the  citizens  of 
London  with  emotions  of  doubt  and  apprehension. 

On  the  day  when  Robin  of  Redesdale  and  his  men 
startled  London,  Richard  and  his  ill-starred  queen 
— the  Anne  Neville  of  earlier  and  happier  times — 
took  their  barge  at  Baynard's  Castle,  and  went  by 
water  to  the  Tower.  After  releasing  Lord  Stanley 
and  the  Archbishop  of  York,  that  they  might  take 
part  in  the  coronation,  the  king  created  his  son  Ed- 
Avard  Prince  of  Wale?,  nominated  Lord  Lovel  to  the 
office  of  lord  chamberlain,  vacant  by  the  execution 
of  Hastings,  and  appointed  Sir  Robert  Brackenbury, 
the  younger  son  of  an  ancient  family  long  settled  at 
Sallaby,  in  the  Bishopric  of  Durham,  to  the  lieu- 
tenancy of  the  Tower.  At  the  same  time  he  be- 
stoAAred  on  Sir  John  Howard  the  dukedom  of  Nor- 
folk, and  to  Thomas,  eldest  son  of  that  pretentious 
personage,  he  gave  the  earldom  of  Surrey.  Grati- 
fied as  the  vanity  of  the  Howards  might  be,  Sir  John 
must  have  blushed,  if,  indeed,  capable  of  so  much 
decorum,  as  he  thought  of  the  disconsolate  Avoman 
in  the  sanctuary,  and  remembered  the  letter  Avhich, 
twenty  years  earlier,  at  the  time  of  her  marriage,  he 
had  Avritten  to  her  father,  Sir  Richard  Woodville. 

At  length  the  day  appointed  for  the  ceremony  ar- 
rived, and  Richard  prepared  to  place  the  croAvn  of 
St.  Edward  on  his  head.  "  The  king,  with  Queen 
Anne,  his  Avifc,"  says  the  chronicler,  "came  down 


422  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

out  of  the  Whitehall  into  the  great  hall  at  West- 
minster, and  went  directly  to  th*  King's  Bench,  and 
from  thence,  going  upon  Kay-cloth,  barefooted,  went 
to  St.  Edward's  Shrine ;  all  his  nobility  going  with 
him,  every  lord  in  his  degree." 

A  magnificent  banquet  in  Westminster  Hall 
brought  the  coronation  ceremony  to  a  conclusion ; 
and,  in  the  midst  of  the  banquet,  Sir  Robert  Dy- 
moke,  as  king's  champion,  rode  into  the  hall  and 
challenged  any  man  to  say  that  Kit-hard  was  not 
King  of  England.  No  one,  of  course,  ventured  to 
gainsay  his  title ;  but  from  every  side  rose  shouts 
of  "  King  Richard,  King  Richard  ;"  and,  his  inau- 
guration as  sovereign  of  England  having  been  thus 
formally  completed,  the  usurper  retired  to  consider 
how  he  could  best  secure  himself  on  that  throne 
which  he  had  gained  by  means  so  unscrupulous. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

THE    PRINCES    IN*    THE    TOWER. 

WIIKN  the  sons  of  the  fourth  Edward  and  Eliza- 
beth Woodville  had  been  escorted  through  London, 
conducted  to  the  Tower,  and  given  into  the  keeping 
of  Sir  Robert  Brackenbury,  the  populace  saw  their 
faces  no  more. 

According  to  the  chroniclers  who  wrote  in  the 
age  of  the  Tudors,  the  young  king  had,  from  the 
time  of  the  arrest  of  his  maternal  kinsman  at  Stony 
Stratford,  been  possessed  with  vague  presentiments ; 
and  he  no  sooner  heard  of  the  usurpation  than  he 
revealed  the  alarm  he  felt  for  his  personal  safety. 
"  Alas  !"  exclaimed  the  boy,  on  being  informed  that 
Richard  was  to  be  crowned,  "  I  would  mine  uncle 
would  let  me  enjoy  my  life,  though  I  lose  my  king- 
dom and  my  crown." 

The  lives  of  the  princes  might  have  been  spared ; 
but  it  happened  that,  after  causing  his  coronation 
to  be  celebrated  with  so  much  splendor  at  Westmin- 
ster, Richard  undertook  a  progress  to  York,  to  have 
the  ceremony  repeated  in  the  capital  of  the  north. 
While  on  his  way,  Richard  learned  that  the  friends 
of  Elizabeth  Woodville  were  conspiring  to  deliver 


424  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

the  princes  from  the  Tower,  and  to  place  young  Ed- 
ward on  the  throne.  The  usurper,  it  is  said,  then 
resolved  on  having  his  nephews  put  to  death  ere 
they  could  be  used  by  his  enemies  to  disturb  his 
reign.  "\Vith  this  view,  while  at  Gloucester,  Rich- 
ard dispatched  a  messenger,  named  John  Green,  to 
Brackenbury,  with  instructions  to  make  away  with 
the  princes;  but  Brackenbury,  though  elevated  to 
office  by  Richard,  declared  that  he  must  decline  the 
commission. 

Richard  was  at  Warwick  when  this  answer 
reached  him ;  and,  on  hearing  that  Brackenbury 
was  a  man  who  entertained  scruples,  he  exclaimed, 
with  astonishment,  "By  St.  Paul,  whom  then  may 
we  trust  ?"  He  was  determined,  however,  that  the 
deed  should  be  done,  and,  while  musing  over  the 
matter,  bethought  him  of  his  Master  of  the  Horse, 
Sir  James  Tyrrel,  who  was  in  the  next  room.  This 
man,  a  brother,  it  appears,  of  the  knight  of  that 
name  who  fell  with  Warwick  at  Barnet,  was  turbu- 
lent in  spirit,  and  so  eager  for  preferment  that,  in 
order  to  make  his  fortune,  he  Avould  shrink  from  no 
crime.  When,  therefore,  summoned  to  the  king's 
presence,  he  showed  himself  even  readier  to  execute 
the  murderous  deed  than  Richard  was  to  intrust 
him  with  the  commission. 

"  Would  you  venture  to  kill  one  of  my  friends  ?" 
asked  Richard. 


MURDER  OF  THE  PRINCES  425 

"  Yes,  my  lord,"  answered  Tyrrel ;  "  but  I  would 
rather  kill  two  of  your  enemies." 

"  By  St.  Paul !"  exclaimed  Kichard,  "  that  is  the 
very  thing.  I  want  to  be  free  from  dread  of  two 
mortal  foes  in  the  Tower." 

"Open  the  gates  to  me,"  said  Tyrrel,  "and  you 
will  not  need  to  fear  them  longer." 

Kichard,  glad  to  have  found  a  man  capable  of  ex- 
ecuting his  commission,  gave  Tyrrel  letters  to  Brack- 
enbury,  commanding  that  he  should  be  intrusted 
with  the  custody  of  the  Tower  and  of  the  princes 
for  twenty-four  hours.  Armed  with  these  letters, 
Tyrrel  hied  him  to  London ;  and,  having  freed 
Brackenbury  for  a  while  from  the  exercise  of  his 
official  functions,  he  enlisted  in  his  service  a  man 
named  Miles  Forrest,  and  a  sturdy  groom  named 
James  Dighton.  With  the  aid  of  these  ruffians,  and 
the  sole  attendant  of  the  princes,  William  Slaughter, 
whom  chroniclers  call  "  Black  Will,"  and  emphati- 
cally describe  as  a  "  bloody  knave,"  Tyrrel  prepared 
for  the  murderous  deed. 

On  a  summer  night — such  is  the  story  so  often 
told — the  two  princes  were  sleeping  in  an  upper 
chamber  of  the  Tower,  in  that  part  of  the  gloomy 
strong-hold  still  pointed  out  as  "  the  Bloody  Tower." 
Their  only  attendant  was  "  Black  Will ;"  but,  as 
clasped  in  each  other's  arms  they  slept  the  sleep  of 
boyhood,  their  very  innocence  seemed  a  protection. 


426  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

While  Tyrrel  remained  outside  the  door,  Forrest  and 
Dighton  suddenly  stole  into  the  room,  prepared  to 
set  about  the  work  of  murder.  The  spectacle  pre- 
sented would  have  melted  any  other  than  the  hardest 
hearts ;  but  Forrest  and  Dighton  were  so  hardened 
as  to  be  impervious  to  emotions  of  pity,  and  they 
proceeded  to  their  task  with  a  shocking  brutality. 
AVrapping  the  boys  tightly  in  the  coverlet,  they 
placed  the  pillows  and  feather  bed  over  their  mouths 
till  they  were  stifled ;  and  then,  seeing  that  their 
innocent  souls  had  departed,  laid  the  bodies  on  the 
bed,  and  intimated  to  their  employer  that  all  was 
over. 

Tyrrel,  on  hearing  this,  entered  the  room  to  see 
with  his  own  eyes  that  the  horrid  commission  had 
been  faithfully  executed.  After  satisfying  himself 
on  this  point,  the  unworthy  knight  ordered  the 
bodies  of  the  murdered  princes  to  be  buried  be- 
neath the  stair,  and  hastened  back  to  inform  the 
king  that  his  nephews  slept  in  Paradise, 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

A    MOCK    KING-MAKER. 

AMONG  the  many  men  of  high  estate  who  aided 
Richard  to  usurp  the  English  throne,  none  played 
a  more  conspicuous  part  than  his  rival  in  foppery, 
Henry  Stafford,  Duke  of  Buckingham.  No  sooner, 
however,  had  the  Protector  been  converted  into  a 
king  than  his  confederate  became  malcontent  and 
restlessly  eager  for  change.  The  death  of  Warwick, 
the  captivity  of  John  de  Vere,  the  extinction  of  the 
Mowbrays  and  Beauforts,  had  left  the  duke  one  of 
the  most  influential  among  English  magnates  then 
alive  and  at  liberty  ;  and,  albeit  destitute  of  prowess 
and  intellect,  he  appears  to  have  vainly  imagined 
•hat  he  could  exercise  that  kind  of  influence  which 
had  rendered  Richard  Neville  so  formidable.  But, 
capable  as  Buckingham  might  have  deemed  himself 
>  !'  rivaling  "  The  Stout  Earl,"  who  slept  with  his 
Montagu  ancestors  in  the  Abbey  of  Bisham,  he  had 
none  of  "  the  superb  and  more  than  regal  pride" 
which  rendered  the  descendant  of  Cospatrick  averse 
to  the  gewgaws  of  royalty.  The  object  of  the  duke's 
ambition,  when  he  resolved  to  break  with  the  usurp- 
er, appears  to  have  been  the  crown  which  he  had 
helped  to  place  on  Richard's  head. 


428  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

With  his  shallow  brain  full  of  ambitious  ideas, 
and  hardly  deigning  to  conceal  his  discontent,  Buck- 
ingham took  leave  of  Richard.  On  leaving  the 
court  of  Westminster,  he  turned  his  face  toward  his 
castle  of  Brecknock,  and  by  the  way  regaled  his 
fancy  with  splendid  visions  of  crowns  and  sceptres. 

It  happened  that,  on  the  day  before  the  corona- 
tion, when  Richard  released  the  confederates  of 
Hastings  from  the  Tower,  he  found  John  Morton, 
Bishop  of  Ely.  decidedly  hostile  to  his  pretensions. 
Unable  to  gain  the  support  of  the  prelate,  but  un- 
willing, on  such  an  occasion,  to  appear  harsh,  Rich- 
ard delivered  him  to  Buckingham,  to  be  sent  to 
Brecknock  and  gently  guarded  in  that  castle.  At 
Brecknock,  musing  over  his  experiences  as  parson 
of  Blokesworth,  his  expedition  to  Towton  Field,  his 
exile  to  Verdun,  and  his  promotion  to  the  see  of 
Ely  by  a  Yorkist  king,  Buckingham  met  the  bishop 
when  he  went  thither  awakened  from  his  dream  of 
royalty,  but  panting  for  enterprise,  however  quix- 
otic. After  so  many  exciting  scenes — suppers  at 
Northampton,  orations  at  the  Guildhall,  deputa- 
tions to  Baynard's  Castle,  progresses  through  Lon- 
don, and  coronation  banquets  at  Westminster — the 
duke  doubtless  found  Brecknock  intolerably  dull. 
Feeling  the  want  of  company,  he  threw  himself  in 
the  bishop's  way,  and  gradually  surrendered  himself 
to  the  fascination  of  the  wily  churchman's  conver- 


BUCKINGHAM  AND  ELY.  42D 

nation.  The  bishop,  perceiving  that  envy  was  de- 
vouring the  duke's  heart,  worked  craftily  upon  his 
humor ;  and  Buckingham,  exposed  to  the  influence 
of  one  of  the  most  adroit  politicians  of  the  age,  by 
degrees  approached  the  subject  which  the  bishop 
was  anxious  to  discuss. 

"  I  fantasied,"  such  were  the  duke's  words,  "  that 
if  I  list  to  take  upon  me  the  crown,  now  was  the 
time,  when  this  tyrant  was  detested  of  all  men,  and 
knowing  not  of  any  one  that  could  pretend  before 
me.  In  this  imagination  I  rested  two  days  at 
Tewkesbury.  But,  as  I  rode  between  Worcester 
and  Bridgenorth,  I  met  with  the  Lady  Margaret, 
Countess  of  Richmond,  now  wife  to  the  Lord  Stan- 
ley, who  is  the  daughter  and  sole  heir  of  John,  Duke 
of  Somerset,  my  grandfather's  elder  brother  (who 
was  as  clean  out  of  my  mind  as  if  I  had  never  seen 
her) ;  so  that  she  and  her  son,  the  Earl  of  Rich- 
mond, have,  both  of  them,  titles  before  mine ;  and 
then  I  clearly  saw  how  I  was  deceived,  whereupon 
I  determined  utterly  to  relinquish  all  such  fantastic- 
al notions  concerning  the  obtaining  the  crown  my- 
self." 

The  bishop  listened  eagerly,  and  doubtless  felt 
much  relieved  at  this  announcement.  He  had  soon 
more  cause  for  gratification  when  Buckingham  add- 
ed, "  I  find  there  can  be  no  better  way  to  settle  the 
crown  than  that  the  Earl  of  Richmond,  very  heir  to 


430  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

the  house  of  Lancaster,  should  take  to  wife  Lady 
Elizabeth,  eldest  daughter  to  King  Edward,  the  very 
heir  of  the  house  of  York,  so  that  the  two  Roses  may 
be  united  in  one." 

"  Since  by  your  grace's  incomparable  wisdom 
this  noble  conjunction  is  now  moved,"  exclaimed 
the  bishop,  almost  overcome  with  joy  at  the  duke's 
hitting  "  the  mark  he  had  himself  aimed  at"  in  form- 
ing his  projects,  "  it  is  in  the  next  place  necessary 
to  consider  what  friends  we  shall  first  make  privy  to 
our  intention." 

"  By  my  troth,"  said  the  duke,  '•  we  will  begin 
with  the  Countess  of  Richmond — the  earl's  mother 
— who  knows  where  he  is  in  Brittany,  and  whether 
a  captive  or  at  large." 

The  conspiracy  originated  at  Brecknock  rapidly 
became  formidable.  Reginald  Bray,  a  retainer  of 
the  Countess  of  Richmond,  was  employed  to  open 
the  business  to  his  mistress ;  and  the  countess,  ap- 
proving of  the  project,  commissioned  her  physician, 
Dr.  Lewis,  to  treat  with  Elizabeth  Woodville  in  the 
sanctuary. 

Elizabeth  interposed  no  obstacle  to  a  project 
which  promised  her  daughter  a  throne ;  and  Bray, 
on  finding  that  the  negotiation  had  proved  success- 
ful, was  enabled  to  draw  many  men  of  high  rank 
into  the  conspiracy.  John,  Lord  Welles,  true  like 
his  ancestors  to  the  Red  Rose,  prepared  to  draw  his 


THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  BRECKNOCK.          431 

sword  for  Lancaster.  Peter  Courtenay,  Bishop  of 
Exeter,  and  his  brother  Sir  Edward,  a  man  remark- 
able for  his  elegance  and  destined  to  wed  King  Ed- 
ward's daughter  Katherine,  undertook  to  raise  the 
inhabitants  of  the  western  counties.  Dorset,  es- 
caping from  the  sanctuary,  repaired  to  Yorkshire, 
trusting  to  rouse  the  men  of  the  north  against  the 
usurper. 

Buckingham  meanwhile  remained  at  Brecknock, 
gathering  the  Welsh  to  his  standard,  and  dreaming, 
perhaps,  of  entering  London  as  Warwick  had  enter- 
ed London  thirteen  years  earlier.  The  duke,  in- 
deed, seems  to  have  had  no  conception  of  the  hazard 
to  which  he  was  exposing  himself.  He  had  been  so 
flattered  that  he  believed  himself  hedged  by  the  no- 
bility of  his  name.  He  had  not  the  elevation  of  soul 
to  dream  of  a  Barnet,  and  he  had  too  much  vanity 
to  entertain  a  prophetic  vision  of  the  crowded  market- 
place, the  scaffold,  and  the  block,  which,  with  the 
headsmen,  awaited  unsuccessful  rebellion. 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

THE    COMING    MAX. 

AT  the  lime  when  Richard  usurped  the  English 
throne,  a  young  Welshman  was  residing  at  Yannes, 
in  Brittany.  His  age  was  thirty  ;  his  stature  below 
the  middle  height;  his  complexion  fair;  his  eyes 
gray ;  his  hair  yellow ;  and  his  countenance  would 
have  been  pleasing  but  for  an  expression  indicative 
of  cunning  and  hypocrisy.  It  was  Henry  Tudor, 
Earl  of  Richmond,  grandson  of  Owen  Tudor,  and 
sole  heir  of  his  mother,  Margaret  Beaufort,  grand- 
daughter of  John  of  Gaunt  and  Katherine  Swyn- 
ford. 

While  passing  his  time  at  Yannes,  Richmond  was 
one  day  startled  by  the  arrival  of  messengers  with 
intelligence  that  a  conspiracy  had  been  formed  at 
Brecknock  to  place  him  on  the  English  throne,  and 
give  him  in  marriage  a  young  woman  who  belonged 
to  the  house  of  York,  which  lie  had  detested  from 
his  cradle,  and  who,  moreover,  had  the  disadvantage 
of  being  considered  illegitimate.  Richmond  does 
not  appear  to  have  received  the  proposals  with  en- 
thusiasm, and  matters  might  never  have  been  brought 
to  a  satisfactory  issue  but  for  the  arrival  of  the 


THE  EARL  OF  RICHMOND.  433 

Bishop  of  Ely.  The  prelate,  by  his  diplomacy,  how- 
ever, removed  all  obstacles,  and  the  Duke  of  Brit- 
tany, on  being  consulted,  promised  to  aid  the  enter- 
prise. 

At  that  period,  Dr.  Thomas  Hutton,  a  man  of 
intellect  and  perception,  was  in  Brittany  as  English 
embassador,  ostensibly  to  ascertain  whether  or  not 
Duke  Francis  gave  any  countenance  to  the  Wood- 
villes,  but,  doubtless,  with  secret  instructions  to  de- 
feat the  machinations  of  the  exiles  at  Vannes.  Hut- 
ton,  who  had  an  eye  to  sec  and  a  brain  to  compre- 
hend, soon  became  aware  of  Buckingham's  plot,  and 
endeavored  to  persuade  the  Duke  of  Brittany  to  de- 
tain Richmond.  But,  when  the  duke,  who  was  al- 
ready committed,  declined  to  interfere,  the  embassa- 
dor sent  such  intelligence  to  England  as  enabled 
Richard  to  form  a  clear  notion  of  the  conspiracy 
formed  to  hurl  him  from  the  throne. 

Nevertheless,  Richmond,  with  forty  ships  and  five 
thousand  Bretons,  sailed  from  St.  Malo.  But  his 
voyage  was  the  reverse  of  prosperous  ;  and  on  the 
very  evening  when  the  adventurers  put  to  sea  a  vi- 
olent tempest  dispersed  the  fleet.  Only  the  ship 
which  carried  Richmond,  attended  by  a  single  bark, 
held  on  her  course,  and  reached  the  mouth  of  Poole 
Harbor,  on  the  coast  of  Dorset. 

And  now  the  Welsh  earl  had  startling  proof  of 
Plutton's  vigilance.  On  approaching  the  English 
E  i: 


431  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

coast,  Richmond  perceived  crowds  of  armed  men, 
and  immediately  suspected  a  snare.  However,  he 
sent  a  boat  ashore  to  ascertain  whether  they  were 
friends  or  foes,  and  his  messengers  returned  with  in- 
formation that  the  soldiers  were  friends,  waiting  to 
escort  him  to  Buckingham's  camp.  But  Richmond, 
too  cautious  to  land  with  so  slender  a  force  in  an 
enemy's  country,  resolved  on  sailing  back  to  St. 
Malo.  The  wind  being  favorable,  Richmond  soon 
came  in  sight  of  Normandy,  and  after  a  short  stay 
on  that  coast  he  returned  to  Brittany. 

Meanwhile,  Buckingham's  insurrection  began,  and 
in  autumn  Richmond  was  proclaimed  king  at  vari- 
ous places  in  England.  At  the  same  time,  the 
duke,  at  the  head  of  a  large  body  of  Welshmen, 
marched  from  his  castle  and  moved  toward  the 
Severn,  his  first  object  being  to  join  the  Courte- 
nays. 

Matters  immediately  assumed  a  gloomy  aspect; 
and  Buckingham  found  that  heading  an  insurgent 
army  was  less  agreeable  than  dancing  with  prin- 
cesses at  Windsor,  or  displaying  his  gorgeous  attire 
before  the  citizens  of  London.  While  he  was  blun- 
dering along  the  right  bank  of  the  Severn  in  e-earch 
of  a  ford,  autumnal  rains  rendered  every  ford  im- 
passable ;  and  the  river,  rapidly  overflowing  its 
banks,  inundated  the  country  around.  A  scene  re- 
plete with  horrors  was  the  consequence.  Houses 


BUCKINGHAM'S  INSURRECTION.  435 

were  overthrown  ;  men  were  drowned  in  Iheir  beds  ; 
children  were  carried  about  swimming  in  cradles ; 
and  beasts  of  burden  and  beasts  of  prey  were  drown- 
ed in  the  fields  and  on  the  hills.  Such  a  flood  had 
never  been  experienced  within  the  memory  of  man  ; 
and,  for  centuries  after,  it  was  remembered  along 
the  banks  of  the  Severn  as  "  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham's water." 

Buckingham  was  rudely  awakened  from  his  de- 
lusions. The  flooded  river  and  broken  bridges  cre- 
ated difficulties  with  which  he  could  not  cope.  His 
enterprise — from  the  beginning  never  very  promising 
— became  utterly  hopeless  ;  and  the  Welshmen,  los- 
ing heart  and  finding  no  provision  made  for  their 
subsistence,  turned  their  thoughts  affectionately  to 
the  rude  homes  and  the  rude  fare  they  had  left  be- 
hind. The  result  soon  appeared.  The  Celtic  war- 
riors pretended  to  regard  the  flood  as  a  sign  that  the 
insurrection  was  displeasing  to  Heaven,  deserted  their 
standards  in  crowds,  and,  without  exception,  return- 
ed to  their  mountains. 

Buckingham  now  lost  courage ;  and,  while  his  con- 
federates— Dorset,  the  Courtenays,  Lord  Welles,  Sir 
William  Brandon,  and  Sir  John  Cheyney — escaped 
to  Richmond  in  Brittany,  the  duke  fled  to  Shrews- 
bury, and  took  refuge  in  the  house  of  one  of  his  re- 
tainers, named  Humphrey  Bannister.  Tempted  by 
the  reward  offered  for  Buckingham's  apprehension, 


430  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Bannister  betrayed  his  master ;  and  the  duke,  hav- 
ing been  conveyed  to  Salisbury,  was  beheaded,  with- 
out trial,  in  the  market-place. 

"When  the  conspiracy  of  Brecknock  had  been 
crushed,  Richard  summoned  a  Parliament,  which 
declared  him  lawful  sovereign,  entailed  the  crown 
on  his  son,  and  passed  a  bill  of  attainder  against 
those  who  had  taken  part  in  Buckingham's  attempt 
at  king-making.  Nevertheless,  Richard  did  not  feel 
secure.  The  dread  of  an  invasion,  and  of  his  ene- 
mies uniting  Richmond  and  Elizabeth,  kept  the 
usurper  uneasy,  and  he  set  himself  boldly  to  the 
scheme  of  getting  both  the  Welsh  earl  and  the  En- 
glish princess  in  his  power.  The  persons  who  could 
aid  him  in  this  were  Peter  Landois  and  Elizabeth 
Woodville. 

The  Duke  of  Brittany  now  reigned  no  longer  save 
in  name,  and  Peter  Landois — son  of  a  tailor — ruled 
the  province  with  more  than  ducal  power.  Peter, 
though  elevated  to  so  high  a  position,  was  not  proof 
to  the  temptation  of  a  bribe  ;  and  Richard,  by  means 
of  gold,  converted  him  from  a  friend  to  an  enemy 
of  Richmond,  and  obtained  his  promise  to  send  the 
Welsh  carl  a  prisoner  into  England. 

With  Elizabeth  Woodville  Richard  was  equally 
successful.  That  lady,  weary  of  the  sanctuary,  not 
only  listened  to  his  proposals,  but  went  with  her 
daughters  to  court,  where  Elizabeth,  the  eldest,  was 


RICHARD'S  SCHEMKS.  437 

treated  with  the  utmost  distinction.  Richard  is  sup- 
posed to  have  intended  to  match  the  princess  with 
his  son,  a  boy  of  eleven,  but  the  death  of  the  prince 
at  Middleham  defeated  this  plan  for  reconciling  con- 
flicting claims. 

No  sooner,  however,  had  Kichard  recovered  from 
the  grief  caused  by  the  death  of  his  son,  than  he 
formed  a  new  scheme  for  keeping  Elizabeth  in  his 
family.  His  queen,  the  Anne  Neville  of  other  days, 
was  in  feeble  health ;  and  Kichard,  under  the  im- 
pression that  she  could  not  live  long,  determined  to 
obtain  a  dispensation  from  Rome,  and  marry  the 
princess. 

Neither  mother  nor  daughter  appear  to  have  ob- 
jected to  this  scandalous  project.  Elizabeth  Wood- 
ville  wrote  to  the  Marquis  of  Dorset  to  abandon 
Richmond's  cause,  as  she  had  formed  a  better  plan 
for  her  family ;  and  Elizabeth  of  York,  at  the  in- 
stigation of  her  mother,  no  doubt,  wrote  to  Sir  John 
Howard,  now  Duke  of  Norfolk,  expressing  her  sur- 
pi-ise  that  the  queen  should  be  so  long  in  dying. 

At  length,  in  March,  1485,  Anne  Neville  breathed 
her  last,  and  Richard  consulted  Catesby  and  Rat- 
cliffe  as  to  the  policy  of  espousing  Elizabeth.  Both 
protested  against  the  project,  declaring  that  such  a 
marriage  would  shock  both  clergy  and  populace,  and 
would,  moreover,  alienate  the  men  of  the  north, 
hitherto  so  faithful  to  Richard  as  the  husband  of 


i:;s  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Lord  Warwick's  daughter.  Kichard,  convinced, 
banished  all  thought  of  marrying  Elizabeth ;  and, 
having  sent  her  for  security  to  the  Castle  of  Sher- 
iff Hutton,  he  prepared  to  encounter  the  coming 
man. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

FROM    BRITTANY   TO    BOSWORTH. 

Ox  Christmas  day,  1483,  a  memorable  scene  was 
enacted  in  the  capital  of  Brittany.  On  that  day, 
Henry  Tudor,  Earl  of  Richmond,  appeared  in  the 
Cathedral  of  Rennes  ;  before  the  high  altar,  and  in 
the  presence  of  the  Marquis  of  Dorset  and  many 
other  exiles  the  Welsh  earl  swore,  in  the  event  of 
being  placed  on  the  English  throne,  to  espouse  Eliz- 
abeth of  York,  and  thereupon  the  marquis,  with  the 
other  lords  and  knights,  did  him  homage  as  to  their 
sovereign.  On  the  same  day  Richmond  and  the 
English  exiles  took  the  sacrament,  and  bound  them- 
selves by  oath  never  to  desist  from  making  war 
against  King  Richard  till  they  accomplished  his  de- 
struction or  his  dethronement. 

Within  twelve  months  after  this  solemn  ceremony, 
and  while  Richmond  was  musing  over  his  prospects, 
his  mother's  chaplain  one  day  arrived  with  a  mes- 
sage to  the  effect  that  the  Welsh  earl  was  no  longer 
safe  in  Brittany ;  and,  after  considering  the  matter, 
Richmond  resolved  upon  an  escape,  and  prepared  to 
be  gone.  With  this  view  he  announced  his  intention 
to  visit  a  friend  in  a  neighboring  village,  and,  with- 


440  THK  WARS  OF  TI1K   KOSKS 

out  delay,  mounted  his  horse  :is  it'  to  proceed  on  the 
way  thither.  After  riding  five  miles,  however,  he 
entered  a  wood,  and  hastily  exchanged  clothes  with 
one  of  his  servants.  Having  assumed  the  character 
of  a  valet,  Richmond  again  mounted,  and  traveling 
by  by-paths  without  halting,  save  to  bait  the  hor.-r-. 
he  reached  Angers,  and,  accompanied  by  the  exiled 
lords,  pursued  his  way  to  the  court  of  Franco. 

Events  had  recently  occurred  at  the  French  court 
which  secured  Richmond  a  favorable  reception.  In 
the  summer  of  1483,  Louis  the  Crafty  had  drawn 
his  last  breath,  his  son  Charles  then  being  a  boy  of 
thirteen.  A  struggle  for  power  began  between  the 
young  king's  sister  Anne,  wife  of  the  Sire  de  Heau- 
jieu,  and  Louis,  Duke  of  Orleans,  heir-presumptive 
to  the  throne.  Orleans,  it  seems,  had  formed  an 
alliance  with  Richard ;  and  Anne,  from  considera- 
tions of  policy,  determined  to  assist  Richmond. 

At  Paris,  therefore,  Richmond  was  received  with 
distinction  ;  and,  ere  long,  Anne,  in  the  young  king's 
name,  agreed  to  furnish  him  with  money  and  men 
to  undertake  an  expedition  against  the  King  of  En- 
gland. Richmond  then  commenced  preparations  for 
the  great  adventure. 

Matters,  ho  A  \vr.  did  not  go  quite  smoothly  ;  and 
Dorset,  despairing,  resolved  to  avail  himself  of  Eliz- 
beth  Woodville's  invitation  ;  and,  with  this  view, 
the  marquis,  who,  though  young,  appears  to  have 


HENIIV  TUDOR  AT   PARIS.  4-11 

been  false  and  calculating  as  his  mother,  forgot  his 
oath  in  the  Cathedral  of  Rennes,  and  left  Paris  se- 
cretly by  night.  His  disappearance  caused  some 
consternation ;  for,  though  in  most  respects  a  man 
of  arms  would  have  been  a  greater  loss,  he  was  pos- 
><'>:-ed  of  information  which,  conveyed  to  Richard, 
would  have  ruined  every  thing.  Humphrey  Chey- 
ney,  one  of  Sir  John's  brothers,  was  therefore  dis- 
patched in  pursuit,  and  succeeded  in  bringing  the 
renegade  back  to  Paris. 

Ere  the  escape  of  the  marquis,  Richmond  had 
been  joined  by  an  Englishman  whose  presence  lent 
dignity  to  the  enterprise,  and  would  have  more  than 
compensated  for  the  loss  of  five  hundred  Dorset?. 

A  long  and  weary  captivity,  during  which  his 
only  son  had  died  in  the  Tower,  and  his  wife  lived 
by  needle-work,  had  not  broken  the  spirit  of  Ox- 
ford's earl.  John  De  Vere  was  still  ready  for  ad- 
venture ;  and  no  sooner  did  he  learn  that  the  parti- 
sans of  the  Red  Rose  were  in  motion,  than,  becom- 
ing eager  to  leave  Ilammes,  he  tried  his  eloquence 
on  James  Blount,  captain  of  the  fortress.  Oxford's 
success  was  more  signal  than  he  anticipated.  Won, 
and  touched  with  admiration  at  the  degree  of  cour- 
age that  animated  the  earl  after  so  long  a  captivity, 
Blount  not  only  consented  to  set  Oxford  at  liberty, 
but  offered  to  accompany  him  to  Richmond,  and 
place  the  fortress  at  the  adventurer's  service.  They 


442  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

went ;  and  Richmond  was  delighted  to  have  such  a 
castle  as  Hammes  at  his  disposal,  and  such  a  pa- 
trician as  John  De  Vere  at  his^right  hand. 

All  that  could  be  done  in  Paris  having  been  ac- 
complished, Richmond  put  Dorset  in  pledge  for  the 
money  he  had  borrowed,  and  left  the  court  of  Paris 
for  Harfleur.  Having  made  all  preparations,  he  and 
his  English  friends  embarked,  with  a  few  pieces  of 
artillery  and  about  three  thousand  men,  collected 
from  the  jails  and  hospitals  of  Normandy  and  Brit- 
tany, and  described  by  Comines  as  "  the  loosest  and 
most  profligate  fellows  of  all  the  country."  On  the 
last  day  of  July,  1485 — it  was  a  Sunday — the  ar- 
mament, leaving  the  mouth  of  the  Seine,  put  to  sea, 
and  Richmond  ordered  the  mariners  to  steer  for 
Wales.  The  voyage  was  free  from  such  disasters  as 
attended  Richmond's  former  expedition ;  and,  after 
having  been  six  days  at  sea,  the  adventurers  sailed 
safely  into  Milford  Haven.  At  the  grand  national 
harbor,  which  gives  importance  to  that  part  of  South 
Wales,  Richmond  debarked  his  soldiers  without 
challenge. 

On  the  morning  of  Sunday,  the  21st  of  August, 
about  three  weeks  after  his  landing,  Richmond,  hav- 
ing marched  from  Milford  Haven  without  a  check, 
encamped  in  Leicestershire  at  a  place  then  known  in 
the  locality  as  "\Vhitemoors,  and  erected  his  standard 
on  the  margin  of  a  rivulet  now  known  in  the  locality 


RICHMOND'S  CAMP  443 

as  the  Tweed.  To  the  north  of  Richmond's  camp 
was  a  morass,  and  beyond  the  morass  a  spacious 
plain  nearly  surrounded  by  hills.  At  the  farthest 
verge  of  these  hills,  about  three  miles  north  from 
the  camp,  but  concealed  from  view  by  the  elevated 
ground  that  intervened,  was  a  little  town,  to  which 
the  inhabitants  of  that  part  of  Leicestershire  were 
long  in  the  habit  of  repairing  weekly  to  market. 
Since  that  time,  however,  the  name  of  that  market- 
town  has  become  famous  as  the  scene  of  a  great 
battle,  which  destroyed  a  dynasty  and  overturned  a 
throne.  It  was  Bosworth. 


CHAPTER  XLTX. 

RICHARD    BEFORE    BOSWORTH. 

WHILE  Oxford  was  leaving  Hammes,  and  Rich- 
mond was  at  Paris  maturing  his  projects,  and  Regi- 
nald Bray  was  carrying  messages  from  the  English 
malcontents  to  the  Welsh  carl,  the  king  appears  to 
have  been  unaware  of  the  magnitude  of  his  danger. 

Richard  was  not,  however,  the  man  to  be  sur-> 
prised  by  armed  foemen  in  the  recesses  of  a  palace. 
No  sooner  did  he  hear  of  an  armament  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Seine,  than  Lord  Lovel  was  stationed  at 
Southampton,  Sir  John  Savage  commissioned  to 
guard  the  coasts  of  Cheshire,  and  Rice  ap  Thomas 
intrusted  with  the  defense  of  Wales.  At  the  same 
time,  Richard  issued  a  proclamation,  describing 
Richmond  as  "  one  Henry  Tudor,  descended  of 
bastard  blood  both  by  father's  and  mother's  side ;" 
who  could  have  no  claim  to  the  crown  but  by  con- 
quest ;  who  had  agreed  to  give  up  Calais  to  France  ; 
and  who  intended  to  subvert  the  ancient  laws  and 
liberties  of  England. 

Having  thus  endeavored  to  excite  the  patriotism 
of  the  populace,  Richard,  about  midsummer,  set  up 
his  standard  at  Nottingham,  and  around  it,  with  the 


EVE  OF  THE  LAST  STRUGGLE.  445 

Earl  of  Northumberland  at  their  head,  came  the 
men  of  the  north  in  thousands.  While  keeping  his 
state  in  Nottingham  Castle,  Richard  heard  of  Rich- 
mond's landing  at  Milford  Haven,  and  soon  after 
learned,  with  indignation,  that  Rice  ap  Thomas  had 
proved  false ;  that  {Sir  Gilbert  Talbot,  with  two 
thousand  retainers  of  his  nephew,  the  young  Earl 
of  Shrewsbury,  had  joined  the  invaders  ;  that,  after 
leaving  Shrewsbury,  Richmond  had  pursued  his  way 
through  Newport  to  Stafford,  and  from  Stafford  to 
Lichfield,  and  that  men  were  rapidly  gathering  to 
his  standard.  Vowing  vengeance,  the  king  issued 
orders  that  his  army  should  forthwith  march  south- 
ward to  Leicester. 

Meanwhile,  many  of  the  lords  whom  Richard  had 
summoned  did  not  appear ;  and  Lord  Stanley,  feel- 
ing that  he,  as  husband  of  the  Countess  of  Rich- 
mond, was  peculiarly  liable  to  suspicion,  sent  to  say 
that  sickness  alone  kept  him  from  his  sovereign's 
side  at  such  a  crisis.  But  this  apology  did  not 
prove  satisfactory ;  and  Richard  having  Stanley's 
eon,  Lord  Strange,  in  the  camp,  ordered  him  to  be 
secured,  and  made  it  understood  that  the  son's  life 
depended  on  the  sire's  loyalty. 

It  was  the  evening  of  Tuesday,  the  10th  of  August, 
when  Richai'd,  mounted  on  a  tall  white  charger,  en- 
vironed by  his  guard  and  followed  by  his  infantry, 
entered  Leicester ;  and  as  the  castle  was  too  much 


446  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

dilapidated  to  accommodate  a  king,  he  was  lodged 
in  one  of  those  antique  edifices,  half  brick,  half 
timber,  that  have  gradually  given  way  to  modern 
buildings.  In  a  room  of  this  house,  long  known  as 
"The  old  Blue  Boar,"  Richard  slept  during  his  stay 
at  Leicester  on  a  remarkable  bedstead  of  wood, 
which  had  a  false  bottom,  and  served  him  as  a  mil- 
itary chest.  After  the  battle  of  Bosworth  this 
strange  piece  of  furniture  was  found  to  contain  a 
large  sum  of  money,  and  it  was  long  preserved  in 
Leicester  as  a  memorial  of  King  Richard's  visit  to 
that  city. 

While  Richard  was  at  Leicester,  fighting  men 
came  in  to  his  aid.  There  he  was  joined  by  John 
Howard,  Duke  of  Norfolk,  by  Thomas,  Earl  of  Sur- 
rey, by  Lord  Lovel,  and  by  Sir  Robert  Bracken- 
bury.  But  with  them  came  farther  tidings  of  de- 
sertion ;  for  at  Stony  Stratford,  Sir  Walter  Hungei\ 
ford  and  Sir  Thomas  Bourchier,  son  of  Sir  Humphrey, 
who  fell  at  Barnet,  feeling  that  they  were  not  trust- 
ed, deserted  Brackenbury,  and — much  as  they  owed 
to  Richard — went  straight  to  Richmond's  camp. 

Nevertheless,  the  king's  courage  continued  high ; 
and  on  the  morning  of  Sunday,  the  21st.  having,  it 
would  appear,  been  previously  out  of  the  city  look- 
ing for  his  foes,  he  rode  from  Leicester  toward  Market 
Bosworth,  in  the  hope  of  an  early  meeting.  On  the 
way,  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  pass  over  Bow 


THE  ROYAL  CAMP.  417 

Bridge,  which  crossed  the  Stoure  on  the  west  side 
of  the  town.  Upon  this  bridge,  according  to  tradi- 
tion, was  a  stone  of  such  height  that,  in  riding  by, 
Richard  happened  to  strike  it  with  his  spur.  An 
old  woman,  who  was  supposed  to  practice,  in  a 
humble  way,  the  arts  which  the  populace  associated 
with  the  names  of  Friar  Bungey  and  the  Duchess 
of  Bedford,  thereupon  shook  her  head,  and  on  being 
asked  what  would  be  the  king's  fortune,  she  answer- 
ed, "  Where  his  spur  struck,  there  shall  his  head  be 
broken." 

After  inarching  about  eight  miles,  Richard  came 
in  sight  of  Richmond's  army,  and  encamped  for  the 
day  near  the  Abbey  of  Miraville.  In  the  evening, 
however,  he  moved  forward  to  within  a  mile  of  the 
town  of  Bosworth,  and  posted  his  army  strongly  on 
Amyon  Hill,  an  acclivity  with  a  steep  descent  on 
all  sides,  but  steepest  toward  the  north,  or  Bosworth 
side,  and  least  so  toward  the  south,  where,  with  a 
morass  intervening,  Richmond's  army  lay.  Lord 
Stanley  still  remained  at  Stapleton.  His  brother, 
Sir  William  Stanley,  had  not  yet  arrived. 

When  that  August  day  drew  to  a  close,  and  dark- 
ness concealed  the  hostile  armies  from  each  other's 
view,  Richard  retired  to  rest.  Repose,  however,  was 
not  granted,  so  disturbed  were  his  slumbers  and  so 
alarming  his  dreams ;  and  at  daybreak  he  had  far- 
ther evidence  of  the  spirit  of  treachery  that  pre- 


418  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

vailed  in  his  camp.  During  the  night,  Sir  John 
Savage,  Sir  Simon  Digby,  and  Sir  Brian  Sandford 
had  gone  over  to  Richmond.  The  desertion  of  Sav- 
age was  of  no  slight  consequence,  for  he  was  Lord 
Stanley's  nephew,  and  he  led  the  men  of  Cheshire. 

Xor  was  the  desertion  of  Savage,  Digby,  and 
Sandford  the  most  alarming  incident.  A  mysteri- 
ous warning  in  rhyme,  attached,  during  the  night, 
to  the  tent  of  the  new  Duke  of  Norfolk,*  seemed 
to  intimate  that  the  king's  prospects  were  worse 
than  they  yet  seemed  ;  for  still,  to  all  appearance, 
Richard's  army  was  comparatively  formidable.  It 
was  not  merely  by  Brackenbury,  and  by  Cat 
Ratcliffe,  and  Lovcl,  whose  names  had  been  render- 
ed familiar  by  Collingborn's  rhyme,  that  the  usurper 
found  himself  surrounded  on  that  memorable  morn- 
ing. On  the  king's  side,  Northumberland  still  re- 
mained, somewhat  reserved,  perhaps,  but  raising  no 
suspicion  of  .he  treachery  of  which  he  was  about  to 
be  guilty.  On  the  king's  fide,  also,  appeared  John, 
Lord  Zouche,  and  Walter  Dcvereux,  Lord  Ferrers 
of  Chartley,  and  Sir  Gervase  Clifton,  albut  the  son 
of  the  Lancastrian  executed  after  Tewkesbury.  And 
not  the  least  conspicuous,  decked  out  in  the  trap- 
pings of  the  Mowbravs.  and  reminding  contempo- 
raries of  the  jackass  in  the  lion's  skin,  figured  Sir 

*     '-Jocky  of  Norfolk,  he  not  too  bold. 

For  Dickon,  thy  muster,  is  hotipht  anil  sold." 


THE  KING  AND  LORD  STANLEY.  449 

John  Howard,  for  once  in  his  life  acting  with  hon- 
esty, and  prepared  to  prove  his  gratitude  for  the 
dukedom  he  had  long  coveted. 

All  this  time,  however,  the  intentions  of  Lord 
Stanley  were  doubtful.  Hitherto  the  wary  baron 
had  kept  his  counsel  so  well  that  even  his  own 
brother,  who  had  come  with  three  thousand  men 
from  Stafford,  and  encamped  to  the  king's  right, 
\V:H  unaware  of  his  intentions. 

When,  however,  the  morning  advanced,  and  the 
hostile  armies  prepared  for  battle,  and  Lord  Stan- 
ley, moving  slowly  forward,  posted  his  men  midway 
bstween  the  two  armies,  Richard  lo.st  temper,  and 
resolved  to  try  the  influence  of  a  menace.  He  there- 
fore sent  a  pursuivant-at-arms  to  command  Lord 
Stanley's  attendance,  and  to  intimate  that  he  had 
sworn  by  CHRIST'S  passion,  in  case  of  not  being 
obeyed,  to  strike  off  Lord  Strange's  head.  Lord 
Stanley,  however,  remained  resolute.  "  If  the  king 
cut  off  Strange's  head,"  said  the  grim  baron,  "I  have 
more  sons  alive.  He  may  do  his  pleasure ;  but  to 
come  to  him  I  am  not  now  determined."  Enraged 
at  this  answer,  Richard  ordered  Strange  to  be  led 
forth  to  execution  ;  but  his  advisers  agreed  that  it 
was  better  to  keep  the  prisoner  till  after  the  battle. 
"It  was  now,"  they  said,  "  the  time  to  fight,  not  to 
execute  ;"  and  Richard,  perhaps  thinking  that,  while 
the  son's  life  hung  in  the  balance,  there  was  a  chance 
FF 


4o<>  THE  \VAKS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

of  the  father  repeating  the  part  so  well  played  at 
Bloreheath.  placed  Strange  in  the  custody  of  his 
tent-keeper,  and  girded  on  his.  armor  for  a  great 
struggle  to  retain  the  crown  he  had  usurped. 

And  who  can  doubt  that,  in  such  an  hour,  other 
than  selfish  motives  animated  the  last  Plantagenet 
king?  "With  all  his  faults,  Kichard  was  an  English- 
man, and  a  man  of  genius ;  and  his  patriotism  and 
his  pride  must  have  been  shocked  at  the  possibility 
of  the  throne,  from  which  the  first  and  the  third  Ed- 
ward had  commanded  the  respect  of  Europe,  becom- 
ing the  perch  of  an  adventurer,  who  would  never 
have  been  heard  of  but  for  a  Welsh  soldier  having 
made  too  elaborate  a  pirouette  while  enacting  the 
part  of  court  fool. 


CHAPTER  L. 

BOSWORTH    FIELD. 

ti  vros  the  morning  of  Monday,  the  22d  of  August, 
en  the  Yorkist  usurper  and  the  Lancastrian 
i-er  mustered  their  forces  on  the  field  of  Bos- 
worth,  a'id  pi-epared  for  that  conflict  which  decided 
the  thirty  years'  War  of  the  Roses. 

On  the  <5ve  of  a  struggle  which  subsequent  events 
rendered  so  memorable,  Richard  was  not  quite  him- 
self. For  days  his  temper  had  been  frequently  tried 
by  news  ot  desertion,  and  for  nights  his  rest  had  been 
broken  by  dreams  of  disaster.  Nevertheless,  he  pre- 
pared for  little  with  energy.  The  honor  of  leading 
the  van,  wliich  was  constituted  of  archers,  flanked 
with  cuirassiers,  fell  to  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  and 
his  son  th,j  Earl  of  Surrey.  The  main  battle,  con- 
sisting of  choice  bill-men,  empaled  with  pikes,  and 
formed  into,  a  dense  square,  with  wings  of  cavalry 
on  either  side,  the  king  took  under  his  own  auspices. 
The  rear-guard  was  under  the  command  of  North- 
umberland. Besides,  Richard's  artillery  was  the  re- 
verse of  contemptible  ;  and,  altogether,  he  had  little 
to  fear  save  from  the  treachery  of  his  adherents. 

Richmond,  meantime,  growing  uneasy  in  the  preS" 


452  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

cncc  of  a  foe  so  redoubted,  sent  to  ask  Lord  Stanley 
to  come  and  assist  lain  in  marshaling  his  army. 
The  answer  of  the  Countess  of  Richmond's  husband 
was  not  quite  satisfactory  to  his,  step-son.  Indeed, 
Stanley  gave  the  messenger  to  understand  that  no 
aid  need  be  expected  from  him  till  the  armies  joined 
battle,  and  he  only  committed  himself  so  far  as  tu 
advise  that  the  onset  should  be  made  without  delay. 
Richmond  was  staggered  at  Stanley's  answer. 
The  AYelsh  earl's  situation  was  indeed  painful  and 
perplexing.  He  knew  that  his  army  was  scarcely 
half  so  numerous  as  the  king's,  and  he  could  not 
but  be  conscious  of  his  immeasurable  inferiority  as 
a  general.  Retreat,  however,  was  impossible  ;  and. 
after  holding  a  council  of  war,  Richmond  resolved 
on  fighting  forthwith.  This  resolution  having  been 
arrived  at,  the  Lancastrian  army  was  set  in  order 
for  battle.  Oxford  took  the  command  of  the  van, 
Avhich  consisted  principally  of  archers.  Richmond — 
whose  standard  was  borne  by  Sir  William  Brandon 
— undertook  to  command  the  main  body ;  and  in  his 
rear,  with  a  body  of  horsemen  and  some  bills  and 
pikes,  was  posted  Jasper  Tudor,  whose  age  and  ex- 
perience, it  was  probably  hoped,  would  compensate 
in  some  measure  for  his  nephew's  lack  of  military 
skill  and  prowess.  Besides,  Richmond's  army  had 
two  wings.  Of  these  one  was  commanded  by  Sir 
Gilbert  Talbot,  the  other  by  Sir  John  Savage. 


THE  USURPER  AND  THE  ADVENTURER.   453 

His  preparations  made,  and  his  armor  girded  on 
except  the  helmet,  Richmond,  to  encourage  hi.s  army, 
rode  from  rank  to  rank,  and  many  of  the  Lancas- 
trian soldiers  for  the  first  time  saw  the  man  who 
represented  himself  as  the  heir  of  John  of  Gaunt. 
The  aspect  of  the  adventurer  must  have  disappoint- 
ed those  who  had  pictured,  in  imagination,  such  a 
chief  as  the  conqueror  of  Towton  and  Tewkesbury. 
Nature  had  denied  Richmond  kingly  proportions ; 
and  his  appearance,  though  not  positively  mean, 
was  far  from  majestic ;  while  his  countenance  wore 
an  expression  which  indicated  too  clearly  that  ten- 
dency to  knavery  destined  to  be  so  rapidly  devel- 
oped. 

After  riding  along  his  lines,  Richmond  halted, 
and  from  an  elevated  part  of  the  field  addressed  to 
his  army  one  of  those  battle-field  orations  which 
were  in  fashion  at  the  period.  Dealing  with  such 
topics  as  were  most  likely  to  inflame  his  partisans 
against  the  usurper,  he  was  listened  to  with  sym- 
pathy ;  and  perceiving,  as  he  pronounced  the  words, 
"  Get  this  day,  and  be  conquerors ;  lose  the  battle, 
and  be  slaves,"  that  an  impression  had  been  pro- 
duced, he  added,  "  In  the  name  of  GOD,  then,  and 
of  St.  George,  let  every  man  advance  his  banner." 
At  these  words  Sir  AVilliam  Brandon  raised  the 
Tudor' s  standard  ;  the  trumpets  sounded  an  onset ; 
and  Richmond,  keeping  the  morass  to  his  right,  led 


454  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

the  Lancastrians,  with  the  sun  on  their  backs,  slow- 
ly up  the  ascent  toward  Amyon  Hill. 

Ere  this,  Richard  had  mounted  his  tall  steed — 
the  White  Surrey  of  Shakspeare — ascended  an  em- 
inence, since  known  as  ''Dickon's  Mount,"  called 
his  captains  together,  and  addressed  them  as  his 
"most  faithful  and  assured  friends."  The  speech, 
not  umvorthy  of  one  whom  his  enemies  confess  to 
have  been  "  a  king  jealous  of  the  honor  of  England," 
elicited  some  degree  of  enthusiasm ;  but  Richard 
must  have  sighed  as  he  recalled  to  memory  how  en- 
thusiastic, in  comparison,  had  been  the  burst  of 
sympathy  which  rose  from  Edward's  soldiers  on  the 
field  of  Jiarnet.  The  bold  usurper,  however,  ap- 
peared undismayed.  "  Let  every  one,"  he  said  in 
conclusion,  "  strike  but  one  sure  blow,  and  certainly 
the  day  will  b9  ours.  Wherefore,  advance  banners, 
sound  trumpets ;  St.  George  be  our  aid ;  and  GOD 
grant  us  victory !" 

As  the  king  concluded,  and  placed  his  helmet, 
with  a  crown  of  ornament,  on  his  brow,  the  York- 
ists raised  a  shout,  sounded  trumpets,  and  moved 
down  the  hill ;  and,  with  banners  flying  and  plumes 
waving,  the  hostile  armies  came  hand  to  hand. 

The  day  opened  not  inauspiciously  for  Richard. 
Ili>  army  would  be  little  inferior  to  that  of  his  ad- 
versaries even  should  Stanley  join  Richmond  ;  and 
his  position  on  Amyon  Hill  had  been  selected  with 


DE  VERE  IN  THE  VAN.  455 

judgment.  Moreover,  to  intimidate  and  outflank 
the  foe,  he  had  extended  his  van  to  an  unusual 
length,  and  this  artifice  proved  so  far  successful,  at 
least,  that  Oxford  was  somewhat  dismayed  at  the 
danger  that  threatened  his  scanty  ranks. 

Oxford,  however,  was  a  leader  of  extraordinary 
calibre.  He  had  not,  indeed,  seen  many  fields,  but 
to  him  Barnet  had  been  worth  thirty  years  of  ex- 
perience to  men  not  gifted  with  the  military  genius 
which  rendered  the  Anglo-Norman  barons  such  for- 
midable war-chiefs.  Over  the  events  of  that  disas- 
trous day  the  earl  may  be  supposed  to  have  mused 
for  twelve  years  in  his  prison  at  Hammes,  and  to 
have  learned,  in  sadness  and  solitude,  wholesome 
lessons  for  his  guidance  in  the  event  of  being  again 
called  to  encounter  the  warriors  of  the  White  Rose. 
The  day  had  now  arrived,  and  John  De  Vere  was 
resolved  not  to  be  outwitted  either  by  "  Jocky  of 
Norfolk"  or  "  Dickon  his  master." 

No  sooner  did  Oxford's  men  come  to  close  en- 
counter with  those  under  Norfolk,  than  the  earl  saw 
that  he  was  exposed  to  danger.  Without  loss  of 
time,  he  issued  orders  that  no  soldier  should  move 
ten  yards  from  his  colors.  Their  leader's  motive 
not  being  understood,  the  men  hurriedly  closed  their 
ranks  and  ceased  from  fighting ;  and  the  enemy, 
suspicious  of  some  stratagem,  likewise  drew  back 
from  the  conflict.  Oxford  quickly  availed  himself 


456  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

of  this  pause  in  the  battle,  and,  placing  his  men  in 
the  form  of  a  wedge,  he  made  a  furious  attack  on 
the  foe.  At  the  same  time,  Lord  Stanley,  who, 
when  the  armies  moved,  had  placed  himself  on 
Richmond's  right  hand  to  oppose  the  front  of  the 
royal  van,  charged  with  ardor ;  and  Norfolk  would 
have  been  exposed  to  a  danger  similar  to  that  from 
which  Oxford  had  just  been  freed,  if,  while  Oxford 
was  forming  the  Lanca>trian  van  into  a  wedge, 
Richard  had  not  arrayed  anew  that  of  the  Yorkists 
— placing  thin  lines  in  front,  and  supporting  them 
by  dense  masses. 

Both  armies  having  thus  been  re-formed,  proceed- 
ed with  the  battle.  But  it  soon  appeared  that,  how- 
ever equal  the  antagonistic  forces  might  be  in  num- 
ber, the  zeal  was  all  on  the  side  of  the  Red  Rose. 
Moreover,  Northumberland,  who  commanded  the 
rear — one  third  of  Richard's  army — refrained  from 
taking  any  part  whatever  in  the  conflict ;  and  futile 
proved  the  king's  expectation  of  aid  from  the  po- 
tent northern  earl. 

The  battle  had  not  been  long  joined  ere  the  field 
wore  an  aspect  most  unfavorable  to  Richard.  Nor- 
folk, indeed,  fought  resolutely  in  the  van  ;  but,  out- 
numbered and  hard-pressed  by  Oxford  and  Stanley, 
he  was  slowly  but  surely  giving  way ;  and  the  men 
composing  the  king's  division  exerted  themselves 
faintly,  and  exhibited  little  of  such  enthusiasm  as 


ENCOUNTERS.  45? 

might  have  carried  them  on  to  victory  against  su- 
perior numbers. 

Amid  the  smoke  of  artillery  and  the  roar  of  bat- 
tle, Sir  Robert  Brackenbury  and  Sir  Walter  Hunger- 
ford  met  face  to  face. 

"Traitor,"  exclaimed  Brackenbury,  "what  caused 
you  to  desert  me  ?" 

"  I  will  not  answer  you  with  words,"  said  Hun- 
gerford,  taking  aim  at  the  head  of  his  ancient  com- 
rade. 

The  blow  would  have  been  fatal ;  but  Bracken- 
bury  received  its  force  on  his  shield,  which  wa? 
shivered  in  protecting  its  owner's  head;  and  Hun- 
gerford,  perceiving  his  antagonist's  defenseless  plight, 
chivalrously  declared  that  they  should  fight  on  equal 
terms,  and  handed  his  own  shield  to  a  squire.  The 
combat  was  then  renewed,  and  both  knights  exerted 
their  utmost  strength.  At  length  Brackenbury's 
helmet  was  battered  to  pieces,  and  his  adversary's 
weapon  inflicted  a  severe  wound.  "  Spare  his  life, 
brave  Hungerford,"  cried  Sir  Thomas  Bourchier, 
coming  up ;  "  he  was  our  friend,  and  he  may  be  so 
again."  But  it  was  already  too  late  to  save  the 
wounded  knight.  As  Bourchier  spoke,  Bracken- 
bury  fell  lifeless  to  the  ground. 

In  another  part  of  the  field  met  Sir  John  Byron 
and  Sir  (.Icrvase  Clifton.  The  two  knights  were 
neighbors  in  the  county  of  Nottingham,  and,  before 


453  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

embracing  opposite  side?,  had  made  a  singular  con- 
tract. '  Byron,  who  donned  the  lied  Rose,  agreed, 
in  the  event  of  Richmond  being  victor,  to  intercede 
for  the  heirs  of  Clifton  ;  and  Clifton,  who  assumed 
the  White  Rose,  promised,  in  case  of  Richard's  suc- 
(•('—,  to  exercise  his  utmost  influence  on  behalf  of 
Byron's  family.  Byron,  seeing  Clifton  fall,  instant- 
ly pressed  forward  to  save  him  ;  and,  sustaining  his 
wounded  friend  on  a  shield,  entreated  him  to  sur- 
render. Clifton  opened  his  eyes,  recognized  his 
neighbor,  and  recalled  their  agreement  to  memory. 
"All  is  over  with  me,"  he  said,  faintly;  "but  re- 
member your  promise."  Byron  pressed  the  hand 
of  Clifton  as  the  Yorkist  warrior  expired,  and  he 
kept  the  promise  so  faithfully  that  Clifton's  estates 
remained  in  possession  of  his  children. 

About  this  time  Richard  rode  out  of  the  battle, 
and  dismounted  to  quench  his  thirst  at  a  spring  of 
water  on  Amyon  Hill,  now  covered  with  a  pyramid 
of  rough  stones,  indicated  by  Dr.  Parr's  inscription 
in  Roman  letters,  and  pointed  out  to  strangers  as 
"  King  Richard's  Well ;"  and  Catesby  and  other  of 
the  usurper's  friends,  believing  defeat  inevitable, 
brought  one  of  those  fleet  steeds  which,  on  such 
occasions,  seldom  failed  their  riders. 

"  The  field  is  lost,  but  the  king  can  yet  be  saved," 
they  said  as  the  Avar-cries,  reaching  their  ears  through 
the  roar  of  bombards  and  the  din  of  battle,  intimated 


KING  RICHARD'S  FAMOUS  CHARGE.          459 

that  Oxford  and  Stanley  were  overmatching  the 
Howards,  and  that,  ere  long,  the  shout  would  be 
"Kichmond  and  victory." 

"  Mount,  my  lord,"  said  Catesby ;  "  I  hold  it  time 
for  you  to  fly.  Stanley's  dints  are  so  sore  that 
against  them  can  no  man  stand.  Fly  !  Another 
day  we  may  worship  again." 

"  Fly  !"  exclaimed  Richard.  "  By  St.  Paul,  not 
one  foot.  I  will  either  make  an  end  of  all  battles 
this  day,  or  finish  my  life  on  this  field.  I  will  die 
King  of  England." 

His  determination  thus  expressed,  Richard  mount- 
ed his  charger,  hastily  closed  his  visor,  and  again 
faced  the  field.  By  this  time  it  appeared  that  the 
day  would  be  decided  by  the  vans.  Richard,  not 
altogether  willing  to  stake  his  crown  on  the  gener- 
alship of  the  Howards,  spurred  from  his  right  cen- 
tre to  see  how  the  conflict  went ;  and,  at  the  same 
moment,  Richmond,  surrounded  by  his  guard,  left 
his  main  body,  and  rode  forward  to  encourage  the 
men  under  Oxford  and  Stanley.  Thus  it  happened 
that  the  king  and  the  Welsh  earl  came  in  sight  of 
each  other;  and  no  sooner  was  Richard  aware  of 
Richmond  being  within  reach,  than  the  temptation 
to  single  out  the  hostile  leader  became  too  strong  to 
be  resisted. 

And  never  during  the  battles  of  the  Roses — nei- 
ther in  the  mist  at  Barnet,  nor  in  the  sunshine  at 


460  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Tewkesbury — luul  Richard  made  himself  so  formi- 
dable as  in  that  hour.  "With  his  lance  in  rest,  and 
followed  by  choice  warriors,  he  dashed  toward  the 
spot  where  the  banner  borne  by  Sir  William  Bran- 
don indicated  Richmond's  presence.  The  white 
war-steed,  the  gorgeous  armor,  the  crown  of  orna- 
ment, rendered  Richard  conspicuous  as  he  spurred 
forward,  and  fierce  was  the  onset  as  he  charged 
among  the  knights  who  clustered  around  the  Lan- 
castrian chief.  Vain  were  all  efforts  to  bar  his  prog- 
ress. Richmond's  standard  was  trampled  in  the 
dust ;  Sir  "William  Brandon,  pierced  with  a  mor- 
tal wound,  fell  never  more  to  rise ;  Sir  John  Chey- 
ney,  throwing  his  bulky  form  in  Richard's  path, 
was  hurled  from  his  horse ;  and  the  Welsh  earl,  all 
unused  to  the  game  of  carnage,  was  in  the  utmost 
peril.  His  destruction,  indeed,  appeared  inevitable. 
The  Lancastrian  warriors,  however,  spurred  to  the 
rescue,  and  shielded  the  adventurer's  head  from  the 
usurper's  hand. 

But  most  doubtful  now  was  the  issue  of  the  con- 
flict. The  desperate  charge  of  Richard  had  created 
a  panic  among  his  foes,  and  there  was  some  prospect 
of  Richmond  having  to  choose  between  dying  brave- 
ly and  flying  cravenly,  when  a  circumstance,  not  un- 
expected, changed  the  aspect  of  the  field. 

Sir  William  Stanley  had  hitherto  remained  a  spec- 
tator of  the  fight.  Having  ever  been  a  devoted 


RICHARD'S  DEFEAT  AND  DEATH.  461 

Yorkist,  perhaps  the  gallant  knight,  hating  Richard 
as  he  did,  was  not  eager  to  draw  the  sword  for  Lan- 
caster against  a  Yorkist,  even  though  a  usurper. 
When,  however,  Richard's  triumph  was  likely  to  re- 
sult from  his  inaction,  Stanley  came  with  a  shout  to 
Richmond's  aid ;  and  this  accession  of  force  to  the 
Lancastrians  so  completely  turned  the  scale,  that  no 
chance  of  victory  remained  for  Richard,  unless,  in- 
deed, the  chief  of  the  Percies  should  lead  the  tall 
Danes  of  the  north  to  the  rescue. 

But  Stanley  charged  on,  and  the  conflict  became 
a  rout ;  and  the  Yorkist  warriors,  attacked  with 
energy,  gave  way  in  a  body ;  and,  still,  Northum- 
berland maintained  his  position,  and,  having  order- 
ed his  soldiers  to  throw  down  their  weapons,  stood 
motionless  while  fliers  and  pursuers  swept  by. 

LordLovel  and  other  Yorkists  of  name  made  their 
escape.  But,  as  at  Barnet  and  Tewkesbury,  so  also 
at  Bosworth,  men  of  high  spirit  disdained  to  fly  or 
yield.  John  Howard,  Duke  of  Norfolk,  fighting  in 
the  van,  redeemed  a  mean  life  by  a  not  inglorious 
death  ;  Walter,  Lord  Ferrers,  died  with  courage,  as 
he  had  lived  with  honor ;  and  Sir  Richard  RatclifFe 
partially  Aviped  away  his  disgrace  by  falling  bravely 
for  the  sovereign  whom  he  had  too  faithfully  served. 
Lord  Surrey  and  Sir  William  Catesby  were  taken 
on  the  field.  Northumberland  quietly  surrendered. 

Richard  now  felt  that  he  was  face  to  face  with 
his  destiny  ;  and,  in  the  hour  of  defeat  and  despair, 


462  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

he  did  not  shrink  from  the  fate  he  had  defied.  In- 
deed, the  valor  he  displayed  in  his  last  moments  ex- 
cited admiration  even  in  adversaries.  Rising  in  his 
stirrups  as  he  saw  his  standard-bearer  cut  down, 
and  shouting  loudly  that  he  had  been  betrayed,  the 
usurper  spurred  into  the  midst  of  his  foes,  and  made 
his  sword  ring  on  helmet  and  shield.  Not  till  un- 
horsed did  he  cease  to  fight  desperately.  Even 
then,  his  shield  broken,  his  armor  bruised,  and  the 
crown  of  ornament  hewn  from  his  helmet,  Richard 
continued  to  struggle.  At  length,  exhausted  with 
fatigue,  and  pierced  with  many  wounds,  he  died 
disdainfully,  with  the  word  "Treason"  on  his 
tongue. 

Ere  the  warriors  of  the  Red  Rose  had  time  to 
moralize  over  the  fall  of  the  last  Plantagenet  king, 
Richmond,  unwounded  in  the  dreadful  scene  with 
which  the  conflict  closed,  and  feeling  like  a  man 
saved  from  imminent  peril  of  drowning,  threw  him- 
self on  his  knees,  and  returned  thanks  to  GOD  for 
victory.  Then  he  rose,  and  expressed  gratitude  to 
those  who  had  aided  him  in  his  enterprise ;  and 
Reginald  Bray,  bringing  Richard's  crown  from  a 
bush,  on  which  that  ornament  had  been  hung,  hand- 
ed it  to  Lord  Stanley,  and  Stanley  placed  it  on  the 
victor's  head ;  and  the  soldiers  cried,  "  Long  live 
Henry  the  Seventh;"  and  the  monarchy  of  the 
Flantagenets  ceased  to  exist. 


•ran  I/AST  TT.ANTAGENHT  KING. 


CHAPTER  LI. 

AFTER     BOSWORTH. 

WHEN  the  battle  of  Bosworth  was  over,  and 
Richmond,  with  John  De  Vere,  and  Jasper  of  Pem- 
broke, and  the  Stanleys,  including  Lord  Strange, 
stood  around  the  mangled  corpse  of  Richard,  the 
prisoners  were  brought  before  the  victor.  Among 
them  appeared  William  Catesby,  and  the  Earls  of 
Surrey  and  Northumberland. 

Northumberland  was  readily  received  into  favor. 
Surrey,  when  asked  how  he  durst  bear  arms  for  the 
usurper,  answered,  "  If  the  Parliament  of  England 
set  the  crown  upon  a  bush,  I  would  fight  for  it." 
Richmond  was  softened  by  this  speech,  and  Surrey 
was  spared  to  fight  for  the  Tudors  at  Flodden,  and 
to  wear  the  ducal  coronet  of  the  Mowbrays.  Cates- 
by,  less  fortunate  than  the  two  earls,  was  summari- 
ly executed.  Dr.  Hutton,  who,  according  to  tra- 
dition, was  one  of  "  the  Huttons  of  that  Ilk,"  sought 
safety  north  of  the  Tweed. 

From  Bosworth  Richmond  marched  to  Leicester, 
and  thither,  covered  with  blood  and  dust,  hung 
across  a  horse,  behind  a  pursuivant-at-arms,  the  feet 
Go 


466  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

dangling  on  one  fide  and  the  hands  on  the  other,  the 
body  of  King  Richard  was  carried.  As  the  man- 
gled corpse  was  conveyed  over  Bow  Bridge,  the 
head  dashed  violently  against  the  stone  which  Rich- 
ard  had,  the  day  before,  struck  with  his  spur — 
"  thus,"  say  the  old  chroniclers,  "  fulfilling  the  pre- 
diction of  the  wise  woman." 

After  being  exposed  to  view  in  the  Town  Hall  of 
Leicester,  Richard's  body  was  buried  in  the  Grey 
Friars'  Church,  and  Richmond  slowly  advanced  to- 
ward London.  At  Hornsey  Wood  he  was  met  and 
welcomed  by  the  mayor  and  aldermen,  all  clad  in 
violet.  Having  been  escorted  to  St.  Paul's,  he  re- 
turned thanks  to  GOD  for  his  victory,  and  offered 
three  standards  upon  the  high  altar. 

After  some  delay,  Richmond  appointed  the  30th 
of  October,  1485,  for  his  coronation  ;  and  on  that 
day  the  old  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  anointed  the 
adventurer,  as  two  years  earlier  he  had  anointed  the 
usurper.  All  the  ancient  ceremonies  were  observed  ; 
and  Richmond  availed  himself  of  the  occasion  to  el- 
evate Lord  Stanley  to  the  Earldom  of  Derby,  Sir 
Edward  Courtenay  to  the  Earldom  of  Devon,  and 
Jasper  Tudor  to  the  Dukedom  of  Bedford — the  old 
duchess,  Elizabeth  "Woodville's  mother,  having  gone 
to  her  account  at  the  time  when  peace  and  pros- 
perity surrounded  the  throne  of  her  son-in-law, 
and  when  "NVilliam  Caxton  was  setting  up  his 


RICHMOND  CROWNED  AT  WESTMINSTER.  4C7 

printing-press  under  the  patronage  of  the  White 
Rose.* 

A  week  after  Richmond's  coronation  Parliament 
assembled  at  "Westminster.  Richard's  adherents 
were  declared  traitors,  while  Do  Vere,  De  Roos, 
Beaumont,  Welles,  and  others  were  restored ;  and 
the  heir  of  the  Cliffords,  who  had  passed  his  youth 
in  the  garb  of  a  shepherd,  emerged  at  thirty  from 
the  fells  of  Cumberland,  and  lived  to  lead  the  men 
of  the  Craven  to  Flodden  Field. 

But  of  all  who  suffered  during  the  Yorkist  domin- 
ation, no  one  was  so  harshly  treated  as  the  widow 
of"  The  Stout  Earl,"  who  fell  on  Gladsmuir  Heath, 
fighting  for  the  ancient  rights  and  liberties  of  En- 
glishmen. After  having  heard  of  Warwick's  death, 
the  countess  took  refuge  in  the  sanctuary  of  Beau- 
lieu,  and  there  remained  in  poverty.  On  Rich- 
mond's accession,  however,  an  Act  of  Parliament 
was  passed  to  restore  her  manors.  But  this,  it 
would  seem,  was  done  that  she  might  convey  them 
to  the  king,  and  only  that  of  Button  was  allotted  for 
her  maintenance. 

*  Wlun  Margaret  Plantagenet  was  married  to  Charles 
the  Rash,  Caxton  accompanied  that  royal  lady  to  her  new 
home,  and,  while  in  her  service  in  Flanders,  learned  the  art 
of  printing.  Having  returned  to  England,  and  been  pre- 
sented by  Anthony  Woodville  to  Edward  of  York,  he,  un- 
der the  king's  protection,  set  up  his  printing-press  in  tha 
Almonrv  at  Westminster. 


469  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

From  the  day  when  Edward.  Prince  of  Wales, 
perished  in  his  teens  at  Tcwkesburv.  Margaret  of 
Anjou  ceased  to  influence  the  controversy  with 
which  her  name  is  inseparably  associated. 

Margaret  lived  several  years  after  regaining  her 
freedom ;  and,  deprived  of  the  crown  which  her  ac- 
complishments had  won,  the  Lancastrian  queen  wan- 
dered sadly  from  place  to  place,  as  if  driven  by  her 
perturbed  spirit  to  seek  something  that  was  no  longer 
to  be  found. 

Tortured  by  avenging  memory,  embittered  by  un- 
availing regret,  and  weary  of  life,  Margaret  of  An- 
jou summed  up  her  experience  of  the  world  when 
she  wrote  in  the  breviary  of  her  neice,  "  Vanity  of 
vanities,  all  is  vanity."  At  length,  in  August.  1480, 
the  disconsolate  queen,  after  reaching  the  age  of 
twoscore  and  ten,  breathed  her  last  at  Damprierre, 
and  was  buried  by  the  side  of  her  father  in  the 
Cathedral  of  Angers. 


CHAPTER  LIT. 

THE   UNION   OF   THE   TWO   ROSES. 

AT  the  time  of  the  battle  of  Bosworth  the  eldest 
daughter  of  Edward  of  York  and  Elizabeth  Wood- 
ville  was  immured  in  the  Castle  of  Sheriff  Hutton, 
within  the  walls  of  which  her  cousin,  Edward  Plan- 
tagenet,  was  also  secure.  After  Richmond's  victory 
both  were  removed  to  London  :  Elizabeth  of  York 
by  high  and  mighty  dames,  to  be  restored  to  the 
arms  of  her  mother ;  Edward  of  Warwick  by  a 
band  of  hireling  soldiers,  to  be  delivered  into  the 
hands  of  a  jailer  and  imprisoned  in  the  Tower.* 

It  soon  appeared  that  Richmond  was  not  particu- 
larly eager  to  wed  the  Yorkist  princess.  He  was 
not,  however,  to  escape  a  marriage.  When  Parlia- 
ment met,  and  the  king  sat  on  the  throne,  and  the 

*  After  a  long  and  cruel  captivity,  Warwick  was,  in  1499, 
executed  on  Tower  Hill,  "for  no  other  offense,"  says  Dug- 
dale,  "than  being  the  only  male  Plantagenet  at  that  time 
living,  and  consequently  the  most  rightful  heir  to  the  throne." 
Fuller,  in  his  Worthies  of  England,  says  that  "  Henry,  being 
of  a  new  lineage  and  surname,  knew  full  well  how  the  nation 
hankered  after  the  name  of  Plantagenet ;  which,  as  it  did 
outsyllable  Tudor  in  the  mouths,  so  did  it  outvie  it  in  ths 
hearts  of  the  English.' 


470  THE  WARS  OF  THE  ROSES. 

Commons  presented  a  grant  of  tonnage  and  pound- 
age for  life,  they  plainly  requested  that  he  would 
marry  Elizabeth  of  York ;  and  the  lords,  spiritual 
and  temporal,  bowed  to  indicate  their  concurrence 
in  the  prayer.  Richmond,  perceiving  that  there 
was  no  way  by  which  to  retreat,  replied  that  he 
was  ready  and  willing  to  take  the  princess  to  wife. 
The  marriage  of  Henry  Tudor  and  Elizabeth  of 
York  was  fixed  for  the  18th  of  January,  1486,  and 
the  ceremony  was  performed  at  Westminster.  The 
primate,  soon  to  be  laid  in  his  grave  and  succeeded 
by  the  Bishop  of  Ely,  officiated  on  the  occasion,  and 
every  thing  went  joyously.  The  knights  and  nobles 
of  England  exhibited  their  bravery  at  a  grand  tour- 
nament ;  the  citizens  of  London  feasted  and  danced ; 
the  populace  sang  songs  and  lighted  bonfires;  the 
claims  of  the  King  of  Portugal,  the  heir  of  John  of 
Gaunt,  and  the  existence  of  Edward  Plantagenet, 
Earl  of  Warwick,  the  heir  of  Lionel  of  Clarence, 
were  conveniently  forgotten ;  and  the  marriage  of 
a  spurious  Lancastrian  prince  and  an  illegitimate 
daughter  of  York  was  celebrated  by  poets  and 
chroniclers  as  "The  Union  of  the  two  Roses." 


THE   END. 


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hooks  lii  the  Abbotts. 


HARPER'S    STORY    BOOKS, 

A  Series  of  Narratives,  Biographies,  and  Tales,  for  the  In- 
^truetien  and  Entertainment  of  the  Young,  By  JACOB  Ab- 
vorr.  Embellished  with  more  than  One  Thousand  beauti 
•ul  Engravings.  Square  4to,  complete  in  \'l  large  Volumes 

:•'<:  siinll  ones. 

HARPER'S  STOKY  BOOKS"  can  be  obtained  complete  in  Twelve 
Volumes,  bound  in  blue  and  gold,  each  one  containing  Three  Sto 
pie?,  for  $21  00,  or  in  Thirty-eix  thin  Volumes,  bound  in  crimson  aurt 
^old,  each  containing  One  Story,  for  $32  40.  The  volumes  may  b« 
had  separately— the  large  ones  at  $1  75  each,  the  others  at  90  ceuU 
eucli. 

VOL.   I. 

BRUNO ;  or,  Lessons  of  Fidelity,  Patience,  and  Self-De- 
nial Taught  bv  a  Dog. 

WILLIE  AND  THE  MORTGAGE  :    showing  How 
Much  may  be  Accomplished  by  a  Boy. 

THE  STRAIT  GATE ;  or,  The  Rule  of  Exclusion  from 
Heaven. 

VOL.  II. 

THE   LITTLE   LOUVRE;   or,  The  Boys'  and  Girls' 
PirtuiY-liallery. 

PRANK  ;  or,  The  Philosophy  of  Tricks  and  Mischief. 

EMMA;  or,  The  Three  Misfortunes  of  a  Belle. 
VOL.  III. 

VIRGINIA ;  or,  A  Little  Light  on  a  Very  Dark  Saying. 

TIMBOO  AND  JOLIBA  ;  or,  The  Art  c'f  Being  Useful 

TIMBOO  AND  FANNY;  or,  The  Art  of  Self-Instruc- 
tion. 

VOL.  IV. 

THE  HARPER  ESTABLISHMENT ;  or,  How  the 
Story  Books  are  Made. 

FRANKLIN,  the  Apprentice-Boy. 

THE  STUDIO  ;  or,  Illustrations  of  the  Theory  and  Prac- 
tice of  Drawing,  for  Young  Artists  at  Home. 

VOL.  V. 
/HE  STORY  OP  ANCIENT  HISTORY,  from  tr  c 

Earliest  Periods  to  the  Fall  of  the  Koman  Empire. 
THE  STORY  OP  ENGLISH  HISTORY,  from  th* 

Earliest  Periods  to  the  American  Revolution. 
THE  STORY  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY,  from 

the  Earliest  Settlement  of  the  Country  to  th« 

T»f»nt  of  the  Federal  Constitution, 


Boo.'.S  by  thf  Abbotts.  3 


VOL.  VI. 
JOHN  TRUE  ;  or,  The  Christian  Experience  of  an  lion 

est  Boy. 

ELFRED  ;  or.  The  Blind  Boy  and  his  Pictures. 
THE  MUSEUM :  or,  Curiosities  Explained. 

VOL.  VII. 

THE  ENGINEER ;  or,  How  to  Travel  in  the  Woods. 
RAMBLES  AMONG  THE  ALPS. 
CHE  THREE  GOLD  DOLLARS ;  or.  An  Account  ot 
tho  Adventures  of  Robin  Green. 

VOL.  VIII. 
THE  GIBRALTAR  GALLERY:  being  an  Account 

of  various  Things  both  Curious  and  Useful. 
THE  ALCOVE :  containing  some  Farther  Account  of 

Timboo,  Mark,  and  Fanny. 
DIALOGUES  for  the  Amusement  and  Instruction  of 

Young  Persons. 

VOL.  IX. 
THE  GREAT  ELM ;  or,  Robin  Green  and  Josiah  Lane 

at  School. 
AUNT    MARGARET;  or,  How  John  True   kept   his 

Resolutions. 
VERNON;  or,  Conversations  about  Old  Times  in  England. 

VOL.  X. 
CARL  AND  JOCKO ;  or,  The  Adventures  of  the  Little 

Italian  Boy  and  his  Monkey. 

L APSTONE ;  or,  The  Sailor  turned  Shoemaker. 
ORKNEY,  THE  PEACEMAKER;  or,  The  Various 

Ways  of  Settling  Disputes. 

VOL.  XI. 

JUDGE  JUSTIN;  or,  The  Little  Court  of  Morningdale 
MINIGO  ;  or,  The  Fairy  of  Cairnstone  Abbey. 
TASPER ;  or,  The  Spoiled  Child  Recovered 

VOL.  XII. 

CONGO ;  or,  Jasper's  Experience  in  Command. 
VIOLA  and  her  Little  Brother  Arno. 
LITTLE  PAUL;  or,  How  to  be  Patient  in  Sickn«»s  anc 
Pain. 

Some  of  the  Story  Books  are  written  particularly  for  girls,  a«ui 
M?ree  for  Boys,  and  the  different  Volumes  are  adapted  to  v-arlf.T> 
tiff.9,  •«  that  the  work  forms  a  Complete  Library  of  Story  Roots  tea 
•»11  (he  Ch^Vd.-en  of  the  Family  and  the  Snadajr-SchooL 


Books  by  the  Abbott*. 


ABBOTTS'  ILLUSTRATED  HISTOKIKS. 

Biographical  Histories.  By  JACOB  ABBOTT  and  Jonx  .% 
D.  ABBOTT.  The  Volumes  of  this  Series  are  printed  and 
bound  uniformly,  and  are  embellished  with  numerous  Engrav- 
tigs.  IGmo,  Cloth,  $1  00  per  volume.  Trice  of  the  set  (32 
rols.),  $3200. 

A  series  of  volumes  containing  severally  full  accounts  of  the  lives, 
characters,  and  exploits  of  the  most  distinguished  sovereigns,  j.o- 
tentates,  and  rulers  that  have  been  chiefly  renowned  among  man- 
kind, in  the  various  ages  of  the  world,  from  the  earliest  periods  to 
the  present  day. 

The  successive  volumes  of  the  series,  though  they  each  contain 
the  life  of  a  single  individual,  and  constitute  thus  a  distinct  and  in- 
dependent work,  follow  each  other  in  the  main,  in  regular  historical 
order,  and  each  one  continues  the  general  narrative  of  history  down 
to  the  period  at  which  the  next  volume  takes  up  the  story ;  so  that 
the  whole  series  presents  to  the  reader  a  connected  narrative  of  the 
line  of  general  history  from  ;he  present  age  back  to  the  remotest 
•Imes. 

The  narratives  are  intended  to  be  succinct  and  comprehensive,  and 
are  written  in  a  very  plain  and  simple  style.  They  are,  however,  not 
juvenile  in  their  character,  nor  intended  exclusively  for  the  young. 
The  volumes  are  sufficiently  large  to  allow  each  history  to  comprise 
all  the  leading  facts  in  the  life  of  the  personage  who  is  the  subject 
of  it,  and  thus  to  communicate  all  the  information  in  respect  to  him 
which  is  necessary  for  the  purposes  of  the  general  reader. 

Such  being  the  design  and  character  of  the  works,  they  would 
seem  to  be  specially  adapted,  not  only  for  family  reading,  but  also 
for  district,  town,  school,  and  Sunday-school  libraries,  as  well  as  for 
text-books  in  literary  seminaries. 

The  plan  of  the  series,  and  the  manner  in  which  the  design  haa 
been  carried  out  by  the  author  in  the  execution  of  it,  have  been  high- 
ly commended  by  the  press  in  all  parts  of  the  country.  The  whol« 
jeries  has  been  introduced  into  the  school  libraries  of  several  ef  th£ 
nrgest  and  most  influential  states. 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN'S  OPINION  OF  ABBOTTS'  HISTOIUF.B. — In  «  eon 
tyrsation  icith  the  President  just  before  his  death,  Mr.  Lincoln  said:  "1 
ftant  to  thank  you  and  your  brother  for  A  bbotts'  series  of  Histories.  1 
lave  not  education  enough  to  appreciate  the  profound  works  of  volu- 
minous liistoriany;  and  if  I  had.  I  hare  no  time  to  read  them.  But 
your  series  of  Histories  gives  me,  in  brief  compass,  just  that  knowledgt 
*f  past  men  and  events  u-hkh  I  need.  I  hare  read  them  with  the  {Trent- 
tsf  \vttrtst.  To  them  /urn  indebted  fit  about  all  the  historical  knotvl 
i-i»-  J  *«•«-" 


Books  by  the  Abbotts. 


CYRUS  THE  GREAT. 

DARIUS  THE  GREAT. 

XERXES. 

ALEXANDER  THE  GREAT. 

FvOMULUS. 

HANNIBAL. 

PYRRHUS. 

JULIUS  C-SJSAR. 

CLEOPATRA. 

NERO. 

ALFRED  THE  GREAT. 

"WILLIAM  THE  CONQUEROR 

RICHARD  I. 

RICHARD  II. 

RICHARD  III. 

MARY  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS. 

QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 

CHARLES  I. 

CHARLES  II. 

JOSEPHINE. 

MARIA  ANTOINETTE. 

MADAME  ROLAND. 

HENRY  IV. 

PETER  THE  GREAT. 

GENGHIS  KHAN. 

KING  PHILIP. 

HERNANDO  CORTEZ. 

MARGARET  OF  ANJOU. 

JOSEPH  BONAPARTE. 

QUEEN  HORTENSE. 

LOUIS  XIV. 

LOUIS  PHILIPPE. 


tiooks  by  tin   AM.otts. 


THE   LITTLE   LEARNER   SERIES. 

A  Series  for  Very  Young  Children.  Designed  to  Assist  in 
the  Earliest  Development  of  the  Mind  of  a  Child,  while  under 

-  Mother's  Special  Care,  during  the  first  Five  or  Six  Years 
of  its  Life.  By  JACOB  ABBOTT.  Beautifully  Illustrated. 
Complete  in  5  Small  4to  Volumes,  Cloth,  90  cents  per  Vol. 
Price  of  the  set,  in  case,  $4  r>0. 


LEARNING  TO  TALK  ;  or,  Entertaining  and  Instruct- 
ive Lessons  in  the  Use  of  Language.  1 70  Engravings. 

LEARNING  TO  THINK  :  consisting  of  Easy  and  En- 
tertaining Lessons,  designed  to  Assist  in  the  First  Unfold- 
ing of  the  Reflective  and  Reasoning  Powers  of  Children. 

1  'JO  Engravings. 

LEARNING  TO  READ ;  consisting  of  Easy  and  En- 
tertaining Lessons,  designed  to  Assist  Young  Children  in 
Studying  the  Forms  of  the  Letters,  and  in  beginning  to 
Read.  I  GO  Engravings. 

LEARNING   ABOUT    COMMON   THINGS;  or, 

Familiar  Instruction  for  Children  in  respect  to  the  Ob-- 
jects  around  them  that  attract  their  Attention  and  awaken 
their  Curiosity  in  the  Earliest  Years  of  Life.  120  En- 
gravings. 

LEARNING  ABOUT  RIGHT  AND  WRONG ;  cr, 

Entertaining  and  Instructive  Lessons  for  Young  Children 
in  respect  to  their  Duty.  90  Engravings. 


Books  Inj  tits  Abbotts. 


KINGS  AND  QUEENS;  or,  Life  in  the  Palace:  con- 
sisting of  Historical  Sketches  of  Josephine  nnd  Maria  Lou- 
isa, Louis  Philippe,  Ferdinand  of  Austria,  Nicholas,  Isa- 
bella II.,  Leopold,  Victoria,  and  Louis  Napoleon.  By 
JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOTT.  Illustrated.  12mo,  Cloth,  $1  75. 


A  SUMMER  IN  SCOTLAND  :  a  Narrative  of  Ob- 
servations and  Adventures  made  by  the  Author  during  a 
Summer  spent  among  the  Glens  and  Highlands  in  Scot- 
land. By  JACOB  ABBOTT.  Illustrated.  12mo,Cloth,  $1  75. 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  SPANISH  HISTORY.    By 

JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOTT.     Illustrated,      i  2mo,  Cloth,  $2  CO. 


THE  TEACHER.  Moral  Influences  Employed  in  the 
Instruction  and  Government  of  the  Young.  By  JACOB 
ABBOTT.  Illustrated.  12mo,  Cloth,  $1  75. 


GENTLE  MEASURES  IN  TRAINING  THE 
YOUNG.  Gentle  Measures  in  the  Management  and 
Training  of  the  Young:  or,  The  Principles  on  which  a 
Firm  Parental  Authority  may  be  Established  and  Main- 
tained without  Violence  or  Anger,  and  the  Right  Devel- 
opment of  the  Moral  and  Mental  Capacities  be  Promoted 
by  Methods  in  Harmony  with  the  Structure  .nnd  the  Char- 
acteristics of  the  Juvenile  Mind.  A  Book  for  the  Parents 
of  Young  Children.  By  JACOB  ABBOTT.  Illustrated. 
12mo,  Cloth,  $1  75. 


POPULAR  HISTORIES 

BY 

JOHN   S.  C.  ABBOTT. 


HISTORY  OF  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT. 

The  History  of  Frederick  the  Second,  called  Frederick  the 
Great.  By  JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOTT.  Elegantly  Illustrated. 
8vo,  Cloth,  $5  CO. 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION. 

• 

The  French  Revolution  of  1789,  as  Viewed  in  the  Light  of 
Republican  Institutions.  By  JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOTT.  With 
100  Engravings.  8vo,  Cloth,  §5  00. 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 

The  History  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte.  By  JOHN  S.  C.  AB- 
BOTT. With  Maps,  Woodcuts,  and  Portraits  on  Steel 
2  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $10  00. 


NAPOLEON  AT  ST.  HELENA. 

Napoleon  at  St.  Helena;  or,  Interesting  Anecdotes  and  Re- 
markable Conversations  of  the  Emperor  during  the  Five 
and  a  Half  Years  of  his  Captivity.  Collected  from  the 
Memorials  of  Las  Casns,  O'Mearn,  Montholon,  Antom- 
marchi,  and  others.  By  JOHN  S.  ( '.  ABBOTT.  With  Il- 
lustrations. 8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 


SCIENCE 
FOR  THE  YOUNG. 

BY  JACOB   ABBOTT. 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


HEAT.     12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50. 

LIGHT.     12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50. 

•WATER  AND  LAND.     12mo,  Cloth,  81  SO. 

FORCE.     12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50. 


Few  men  enjoy  a  wider  or  better  earned  popularity  as  a.  writer 
for  the  young  thau  Jacob  Abbott.  His  scries  of  histories,  aud  sto- 
ries illustrative  of  moral  truth?,  have  furnished  amusement  and  in- 
struction to  thousands.  He  has  the  knack  of  piquing  and  gratifying 
curiosity.  In  the  book  before  us  he  shows  his  happy  faculty  of  im- 
parting useful  information  through  the  medium  of  a  pleasant  nar- 
rative, keeping  alive  the  interest  of  the  young  reader,  and  fixing  in 
his  memory  valuable  truths.— Mercury,  New  Bedford,  Mass. 

Jacob  Abbott  is  almost  the  only  writer  in  the  English  language 
who  knows  how  to  combine  real  amusement  with  real  instruction 
in  such  a  manner  that  the  eager  young  readers  are  quite  as  much 
interested  in  the  useful  knowledge  he  imparts  as  in  the  story  which 
he  makes  so  pleasant  a  medium  of  instruction.— Buffalo  Commercial 
Advertiser. 

*  *  *  Mr.  Abbott  has  avoided  the  errors  so  common  with  writers 
for  popular  eflect,  that  of  slurring  over  the  difficulties  of  the  subject 
through  the  desire  of  making  it  intelligible  and  attractive  to  nn- 
learned  readers.  He  never  tampers  with  the  truth  of  science,  nor 
attempts  to  dodge  the  solution  of  a  knotty  problem  behind  a  cloud 
of  plausible  illustrations.— JV.  Y.  Tribune. 


BY  JOHJN   S.  C.  ABBOTT. 


CHILD  AT  HOME. 

The  Child  at  Home ;  or,  the  Principles  of  Filial  Duty  famil- 
iarly Illustrated.  By  Jou\  S.  C.  ABBOTT.  Woodcuts. 
IGmo.  Cloth,  $1  CO. 

The  duties  and  trials  peculiar  to  the  child  are  explained  and  iU 
lustrnted  in  this  volume  in  the  same  clear  and  attractive  manner 
in  which  those  of  the  mother  are  set  forth  in  the  ''Mother  at  Home." 
These  two  works  may  be  considered  as  forming  a  complete  manual 
of  filial  and  maternal  relations. 


MOTHER  AT  HOME. 

The  Mother  at  Home ;  or,  the  Principles  of  Maternal  Duty 
familiarly  Illustrated.  By  JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOTT.  Engrav- 
ings. IGmo,  Cloth,  $1  00. 

This  book  treats  of  the  important  questions  of  maternal  responsi- 
bility and  authority;  of  the  difficulties  which  the  mother  will  ex- 
perience, the  errors  to  whhh  she  is  liable,  the  methods  and  plans 
she  should  adopt ;  of  the  religious  instruction  which  she  should 
impart,  and  of  the  results  which  she  may  reasonably  hope  will  fol- 
low her  f.iithful  and  persevering  exertions.  These  subjects  are 
illustrated  with  the  felicity  characteristic  of  all  the  productions  of 
the  author. 


PRACTICAL  CHRISTIANITY. 

Practical  Christianity.      A  Treatise  specially  designed  for 
Young  Men.      By  JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOTT.     IGmo,  Cloth, 

$1  00. 

It  is  characterized  by  the  simplicity  of  style  and  appositeness  of 
fllnstration  which  make  a  book  easily  read  and  readily  understood. 
It  is  designed  to  instruct  and  interest  young  men  in  the  effectual 
truths  of  Christianity.  It  comes  down  to  their  plane  of  thought, 
and,  in  a  genial,  conversational  way,  strives  to  lead  them  to  a  life 
of  godliness. — Watchman  and  Reflector. 

It  abounds  in  wise  aud  practical  suggestions.— .V.  }'.  Commercial 
Advertiser. 


